Last Will and Testament
by KkGgINoU
Summary: He's a deranged, murderous madman... But what are his motives? Who does he care about so much that he is willing to fight tooth and nail to get them back?
1. Chapter 1

Hi...

Yes, I know. I'm lazy. I'm not working on Letters like I'm supposed to. But I haven't gotten any really good ideas lately for the story, so I'm just trying to get out of a nice little case of writer's block.

Anyways, I just watched STID for the umpteenth time, and this story is what came out of it. (I swear I'm going to run myself into the ground if I keep watching movies that I get ideas for. I've gotta stop watching movies!... Who am I kidding? That'll never happen...)

* * *

 _To all the men and women that I grew up with, considered my colleagues, my friends, my family-_

 _Time and time again I find myself wondering if I truly made the right decision. Every day I think of you and every day I find myself growing colder and colder towards Marcus. What he did to me... To us; I find it... Inexcusable._

 _Perhaps if you were with me, you would find it even more so. Or perhaps less. Many of you, I know, see revenge as... Unsavory. In the words of my own beloved Nala, 'A wrong against one man cannot be healed with a wrong upon the other.'_

 _Still, I find myself far less pacifist than Nala._

 _With the impending actions to be performed tomorrow morning, I now feel it my duty to inform you of my last few wills and what I shall bequeath to whom._

 _Firstly, to and regarding Benjamin Moran- I am sorry that I could not do more to have prevented your... Untimely departure from us. But the name of Benjamin Gregory Moran will be ever remembered in our hearts as one of the noblest of all our people. Benjamin, may your legacy will live on in the highest places._

 _Secondly, to John Phillip Harrison- My old friend, it has been a long time since I saw the real John Harrison. The John Harrison that is not only my friend, but one of the most cunning generals I have ever known. Not a day goes by that I don't think of the Glory Days. This is the friendship that shook the world to its roots. We made the earth tremble before us, and not even a stone dared to defy our law. Thus, to my second in command and good friend I leave my legacy created under your identity and the fact that the name John Phillip Harrison shall never depart from the memory of the world. I'm sure that you will have wanted to be there for the making._

 _Thirdly, to my dearest little Jade- I know that of the actions that will come to pass tomorrow morning, you will not approve. But as my last will to you, I beg your forgiveness for all that I have done, and all that I must do to recover you from the hands of Alexander Marcus. Please know that it is in good intent. Everything that I have done- that I will do- I have not enjoyed. But I do it for you. For all of you. You are my family. Every single one of you._

 _And to Nala, my dearly beloved- You have been my anchor from day one. You have helped me so much, and not even a minute goes by that I don't think of you. I long for the day that we can be reunited. But as a final request, if it comes to pass that we are unable to see each other again; please do not let our son Michael know of me. He is only a babe now, but should I be unavailable to him for his youth, please let Nahodha care for him. Let Nahodha be his father. Nay, do not even mention my name before the boy. He should not have to pay for the transgressions of his father._

 _One final request before I close. Please bury me in the canyon. It was my home for many years, and I wish it to be my final resting place._

 _Goodbye to all._

The video ended.

"So, remind me again why we watched this, Bones?"

Said man turned to Captain James T. Kirk. "Well, this is what Khan gave to me to deliver to his people, in the event that he should become, shall we say... Dead."

"That makes no sense. Why would he give it to you?"

"I don't know. I was just running my standard diagnostic on him in the brig when he pulls out this little chip from his pocket. He tells me to take the chip and deliver it to the Augments when they wake if he dies. He tells me that it's his will. I don't know why he gave it to me. He was a madman." Bones casually popped the data card out and waved it to show his point.

"I don't think so. Think about it. He wanted to be buried in his... Hometown, sort of. He had a family- a son."

"I still say he was a murderous lunatic." Leonard slid the chip into a holder.

"Well, I'm not sure if I could really argue with that... But why did this not come up earlier?"

"I... I guess I just forgot."

Jim got up and patted him on the shoulder. "Eh. Don't worry. It happens to the best of us." He turned to leave.

"Wait- what do I do with this?" The doctor motioned to the holder on the table.

Jim shrugged. "I guess what we do to everything else. Log it."

Leonard nodded in agreement. "WillCo." He stood up, pocketing the card. That could be dealt with later. Right now, he needed to get back to McGapherty's chicken pox. How a man could get the pox in space, he'd never know.

 ** _Elsewhere..._**

A man laid peacefully in a cryotube, seemingly sleeping. Small patches of frost formed on the tips of his hair and on his eyebrows. Yet if he felt the cold, he showed no sign of it. Merely a rest. A seeming eternity in the cold, tired darkness. An icy, dreamless sleep. Though his rest was dreamless, that did not mean he could not think, even if momentarily.

 _Oh, my dear Nala. How much longer must I wait?_

* * *

Why do I keep writing these things? No clue.

But I figured that a little peek into the domestic life of a super villain might be nice.

Reviews are welcome.

Please excuse errors, grammatical or otherwise.

All rights to respective owners


	2. Chapter 2

It was **SUPPOSED** to be a oneshot. And then guess what happened.

It's like... Ordering a pepperoni pizza and then discovering that your pizza ended up with un-ordered, unexpected sausages too(not having anything against sausage, but it's the concept).

* * *

"Dada! Hold!" Little Michael reached out for his father with the pudgy little fingers of a two-year old.

"Mikey, don't bother Daddy. Daddy is doing important things." Nala could barely hold the bouncing child.

Khan looked up from the hologram of the battlefield to tell his wife sternly, "Nala, we've been over this before."

"Yes, yes, I know, dear." His wife seemed ashamed. "You aren't to be disturbed while working." She shifted her hold on Michael who was still trying to escape from her arms.

"No..." Khan's features softened as he gently took his son from his wife's tired arms. "Nothing matters more than family."

"Dada!" Michael was as happy as a clam. "Dada play!"

Nahodha, the chief captain, looked expectantly at Khan. There was still a war to be waged.

"Listen, Michael, I can hold you for a little bit, but you've got to promise me that you'll be good." Michael's attention drifted elsewhere. "If you're bad you go back with Mommy to the Safe Place, OK?"

Michael nestled his head into his father's chest and began to suck on his thumb.

Nala went to sit down. She was obviously tired. And she ought to be, in Khan's opinion. Sure, he oversaw everything to deal with the Augments, but she micromanaged everything in the domestic arena. He smiled. Nala did a lot that she never got credit for.

Nahodha grinned broadly and said with his heavy Swahili accent, "well, I guess that makes everything settled."

Khan shot him a sarcastic glance. "Try ruling Asia, supervising every battlefield we fight on, managing an extended family of over a hundred people and all the settlements that go with them- see how happy you are at the end of the day." Khan scanned the hologram again.

"That's exactly why you're the leader of the Augments and not me."

Khan shook his head and smiled. "You stink."

Nahodha's face darkened as he looked closely at the hologram. He grabbed a commlink.

"John! They're going to outflank you! Either punch ahead, or fortify the rear!... John, are you still there?"

A staticky voice came in through the comm. "I know- I can't do anything about it!" Another yell of 'Incoming!' made it through the link. "We're spread too thinly along too far of a stretch! Can you-" his voice was cut of with massive explosions.

Khan watched the explosions on the hologram as his best friend's location was shelled by artillery. Michael buried his face into his father's jacket. Khan looked at his son. "It's going to be OK. Uncle John will be fine. You'll see. John's a tough old... Well, he's going to be fine, I'm sure."

"John! General John Harrison, do you copy? Do you copy?" Nahodha began to look worried.

A voice finally came through, and the whole room sighed a breath of relief. The caller was urgent. But it wasn't John. "HQ, come in!"

"We read you, soldier. Who are you?"

"Sergeant Nicholas Syjerak. The General was knocked unconscious in the last attack."

"Can he make it to an Evac?"

"I'm not sure, sir. He's banged up pretty bad."

Nahodha and Khan briefly made a worried eye contact. Khan quickly surveyed the situation in the hologram. Nala stood up.

"Do you have a medic?"

"No, sir. Killed in an explosion. There are only four of us left at Flashpoint Station. I'm ranking."

Khan felt his eyes become moist. The Augments were all close. He knew every soldier personally. Flashpoint had a usual compliment of fifty. Every single person who was killed was someone he knew- someone close to him.

"Sergeant, we're getting all of you out of there. How many soldiers on the front can we save?"

"Maybe half."

Khan looked at the hologram. Nala gently took Michael, who made no fuss. Khan put both hands down on the hologram console. He whispered despairingly, "we've lost. South America is gone."

He swiped the comm out of Nahodha's grasp. "You're going to do better than half, soldier."

"Too many squads are pinned down. We can't get in and they can't get out."

"We'll find a way. War Room out." Khan threw the comm against the wall. It shattered against the concrete.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"We're sending all available transports there. I don't care how we do it, but those soldiers are coming home."

"We can't make it, Khan." Nahodha seemed resigned to the outcome. "It was a danger going in- everyone knew that. Those men are gone. Even if we did ge the ships, we won't make it in time to save them. We can't do it."

"Get the ships. Get those men out. You don't tell me what we can't do."

He started to leave, but thought better of it. "And if we lose men, it's because we didn't try hard enough."

Khan's demeanor changed instantly and he gently took his son out of Nala's arms before walking out of the War Room.

"Come on, Michael. Let's go play a game outside."

* * *

The domestic life of a supervillain really interests me.

Please review.

Please excuse grammatical errors.

All rights to respective owners.


	3. Chapter 3

Why, yes, it was supposed to be a oneshot!

#getmehelp

* * *

"Are you absolutely positively sure that there's no other way to get around this?"

Everyone was standing around a cryotube- the only one allowed out of the Augment Lockdown. It was a rather smallish one- not intended to hold an adult.

"Jim, if we don't get this boy out of the tube **now** , he's going to die." Leonard McCoy busied himself with the unfreezing sequence.

"There's no way to salvage it?"

"We can repair it- but the odds against the boy surviving it is more than ten thousand to one."

Kirk looked at the person inside. He was undeniably still a child- most likely around four years of age.

McCoy continued to tap on the datapad. "OK, if I have the coding right, we should be able to have this kid out of there in just a little bit."

With a _hiss_ and a _whoosh_ the miniature cryotube opened. The little boy seemed to be sleeping peacefully.

"Is everything OK?" Scotty seemed to be worried.

Spock turned to the chief engineer. "Fascinating. You humans have incredible compassion- even to the young of those who murdered your own kind."

"Arrogant-" Scotty hissed something to the effect of a profanity under his breath.

"Come on, Spock- he's a kid. Augment or not, he's just a little boy." Kirk looked at the child. His face softened."A little boy who's going to be scared out of his wits to see someone who isn't daddy or mommy taking him out of his cryotube."

Spock raised an eyebrow.

Kirk mumbled back, "err- human sentiment."

"Well," McCoy shot a wry glance at Spock. "No matter what our pointy-eared computer has to say, the kid is going to be waking up in just a little bit, so..."

The boy's eyes fluttered open. Uhura gasped at the brilliant blue color. The child took note of this, and then scanned everyone hovering over him. The attentiveness of his gaze was unsettling. He stopped at Kirk, recognition lighting his gaze.

"Robin! You're here!"

"Uhh..."

"Don't you remember me, Robin? It's me- Michael!"

McCoy elbowed Kirk in the side. He caught on quickly.

"Mikey! Wow, you've grown since the last time I saw you!"

The little boy smiled. His head tilted as he seemed to realize something. "You look older, too... How long was I asleep?"

"A really long time, Mikey. I've got some new friends." He motioned to the others.

"Uncle John!" Michael reached out for McCoy. McCoy put his hands up in shock as the little boy gave him a tight hug around the neck.

"Hi, there, sport. Good to see you up and well, too." McCoy patted the little boy gently on the back.

Kirk intervened. "Listen, Mikey, I need to talk with Uncle John and one of my friends right now." He motioned Carol Marcus over. "This is Carol. She's a good friend. Would you let her hold you?"

The little boy hesitated, then nodded.

Kirk took Spock, Uhura, and McCoy aside. "I don't know who Robin is, but I guess he looks like me. What do I do? Can I tell him that I'm not Robin?"

"Of course not, Captain!" Uhura interrupted Spock, who was well and ready to put his two bits in. "With all due respect, if we tell him, he will become more alienated to us. He needs someone to connect with. And you're that person."

"I would tend to agree with Lieutenant Uhura. We must establish a connection to him if we hope to gain any more information."

"Come on, Spock. He's only four. What is he going to know about history or strategies?"

"Augments were designed to be more adaptable, more intelligent, more physically apt, and more strategic than normal humans. Even at his young age-"

"Actually, Spock, that little boy wasn't much stronger than any other preschoolers that I've gotten hugs from." Everyone stared wide-eyed at McCoy. "The few hugs that I have gotten, anyways."

"Well, first things first, we need to do a medical check to see if he's OK to keep on the ship. Then, if he's healthy, we need to get him a room and a bed to sleep on."

"I guess I get the medical check." McCoy walked off to get everything ready in the station's medbay.

"I'll find a room for him to sleep in." Uhura transported back to the ship.

Kirk turned to the remaining member of the discussion. "Spock, I need you to find out if anyone in the Augments or affiliated to them had the name Robin."

"Yes, captain." Spock exited the room.

Kirk turned to Scotty and Chekov, who were both having fun with Michael.

"Mr. Scott."

"Ji- err... Robin?"

"I think you'd both best get back to the ship."

"Aye Sir. C'mon, Chekov." They beamed back into the ship.

"Hey, Carol-"

"Yes, Captain?"

"Can you bring him to the station's medbay for a checkup?"

"Sure."

Michael interrupted them.

"You look like Jade, Miss Carol. I like that." He happily nestled into her shoulder and closed his eyes.

Carol Marcus smiled as he began to doze in her arms. She stroked his jet-black hair. "You look like your father. But I like you anyways." She carried him off to the medbay.

Kirk looked around. The room was deathly silent. All of the Augments were peacefully in cryosleep. He walked among the rows, stopping at the last unit.

He looked at the all-too-familiar face.

Kirk promptly walked out of the room. He probably needed to check up on what Spock had found out from his datasearch.

Sometime later...

Contrary to what might be believed, not all senses are halted in the process of cryosleep. Though focusing is far more difficult through the distorting mist, there are still sounds to be heard- many sounds. Sounds of people. Your son. Carried away by strangers- willingly, no less. Or perhaps not strangers. Perhaps by your mortal enemy.

A single thought penetrated the icy darkness surrounding him. _Revenge._

* * *

So, this turn of events is out of a prompt from _Sassiebone_. I really liked the idea of having Michael awake, so here we are.

Please review.

Please excuse any errors.

All rights to respective owners.


	4. Chapter 4

I was told by _Sassiebone_ to stop thinking Oneshot (rather firmly I might add). So, I think that I'm going to take it as a normal chapter story now.

I am upping the rating to T, because this Chapter has major trigger issues. There is insinuated long-term child abuse. Please be warned.

* * *

"Howdy, Khan! It's good to see you!" The blonde-haired man in the doorway was... Illegally cheerful.

"And you," the guest said curtly.

"Come in!"

Khan dipped his head to the man as he went inside.

"So, I need to oversee final arrangements. Make yourself at home!"

"Thank you, Aaron." The host hurried away.

Khan looked at his surroundings. The estate was quite grand. The style seemed to be in the way of a plantation from the Civil War Era. He heard rapid footsteps coming from the upstairs. It was probably Robin.

"Khan, are you here? Daddy said-" The five-year old stopped in his tracks at the bottom of the stairs. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, sir. I was told that one of my friends was coming to dinner today."

"Robin, it's me- Khan."

"You aren't Khan. He's only nine years old. You're a grownup."

Khan looked down at the boy in pity. The poor child had no idea what his father (for that matter, any of the scientists) did when he wasn't home.

"It is me. I'm Khan- don't you believe me, Robin?"

The boy's face lit with recognition, then with horror. "They... They... They did... It to you, didn't they?"

"Yes. They did... I'm sorry you had to know."

Robin broke into tears. "I'm so sorry, Khan!" Robin put his arms around Khan's waist and sobbed into his leg. "Daddy doesn't mean any of it! I swear! I know how much it hurts- I've seen it happen!... I'm so sorry."

"It's alright, Robin. It's over. It's all going to be OK."

"He could have killed you. I've seen it happen. He takes them too young, and then they die when It happens!"

"It's all good, Robin. I'm OK. I survived. Everything is going to be OK."

"But I won't be able to see you anymore. They did It to you. You're a grownup now. He's going to take you away, and I won't see you anymore. You're the best friend that I've ever had."

"But I'm going home. I haven't seen my family in a long time."

"ROBIN!" Khan turned his head to see Aaron storming out from the direction he went. His eyes changed from the warmth he had for Robin to the cold he had for Aaron. He knew how terrible the man's temper could be.

The little boy recoiled in fear, pressing closer to Khan. "I'm sorry, Daddy! I wanted to see him..."

"DON'T YOU 'SORRY DADDY' ME!" Aaron turned to Khan, demeanor changing instantly. "Would you excuse us?"

Khan let Aaron take the boy away to a separate room. He couldn't bear to think what was happening. He heard heavy blows and a child crying.

He muttered under his breath. Men like Aaron sickened him. Abusive hitting of their own young- beyond the point of disciplinary measures. Khan himself had received gentle blows for punishment (usually to the hindquarters) when he was a young child in the canyon. Still, no one in the canyon ever did something so severe as what Aaron did to his son daily. And Khan had seen what Aaron was capable of.

He heard a scream. Finally, he decided that everyone had taken just about everything they could tolerate from Aaron.

Khan barged into the room where Robin and his father were. Robin was pinned against a corner of the room. His father had him by the collar.

Aaron whirled around to face Khan. "This is none of your business. Get out."

"If you so much as touch that boy again, you will regret the day you were born."

"Ha."

"Aaron." Khan's voice was dangerously low. "Touch him and I swear you will never see the light of day again."

"Yeah. As if any of your threats mean anything. You know what happens to Deviants. They die."

"Not this time. Because I know that your staff is on my side. They hate you. Everybody does."

"Justice will be done." Aaron grabbed Robin by the collar and wound up to hit him.

Khan grabbed Aaron's arm mid-swing. "This is justice. I warned you." Khan wrung Aaron's hand off of the fabric. He looked at Robin. "Go up to your room. Tend your wounds. Pack up essentials. We're camping away tonight."

"Don't move, Robin. He doesn't know what's best for you."

Robin looked up at his father. "And you do? You beat me. You hurt me. You lock me in my room." The boy's gaze traveled to Khan and back to Aaron. "Khan is _good_. He tells me what is good to do and what isn't, but he doesn't hurt me. Not like you do." The child paused. "And you hurt other people, too. You do things to them. You make them grow up fast, and it hurts them. You change how they are. You make them mean by hurting them. And then you wonder why they hurt others. I can't live like this anymore. I don't want your shadow." He turned to go.

"ROBIN!"

Khan watched the boy walk away. "Too late, Aaron. He's made his choice."

They held that stare for several seconds.

"Steal my child, humiliate me. Have you no honor?"

Khan went to the door and closed it. "I do this because I have honor. Because Augments protect the defenseless. Give a voice to those who have none." He put his hands on either side of Aaron's head. "You present us as monsters, when the real monster is what you make us into. When the real monster is _you_." He began to press his hands towards each other.

Aaron groaned from the pain.

"What can I say? Your type- humans. You aren't worthy of your name. You use the term humane to describe actions of morality. The difference is just one letter. But have you any humaneness left in you?"

Aaron screamed.

"No."

 _ **Five minutes later...**_

"Is it over?" Robin didn't even turn his head to look at Khan when he came through the bedroom door.

"Yes. It's over. Your father can't hurt anyone anymore."

"He was a very bad man. I guess it was the right thing to do. But where will I go now? I don't have a home. Or a family."

Khan sat down on the bed. "Yes, you do. You have a home in the canyon. The Augments can be your family now."

Robin slung his bag over his shoulder. "That's good. But..."

"But what?"

"What did you do? How did he..." Robin trailed off.

Khan showed the boy his hands. There was still blood underneath the fingernails.

"Oh."

Khan stood and lifted Robin up, bridal style. "Can you settle for a faulted father? One who still does bad things?"

"You always mean well. I think I can manage." Robin smiled. He paused. "But what will my name be now? I can't still be a LeClerk if I live with the Augments. And you just committed a crime."

Khan thought as he carried the boy down the stairs. "Well, to the Augments you'll be a Singh. And if humans get nosy... How about... Kirk? They sound a bit alike."

The boy nestled into Khan's shoulder. "Robin Kirk. I like it."

Khan carried Robin out the open door. "Come on Robin. Let's go home."


	5. Chapter 5

Hi.

I feel like this story leaves me more freedom than Letters, which is why I update this more often.

Anyways.

* * *

"Well, Jim. He's all checked out. He's in fairly good health. There's a few symptoms of cryosleep sickness, but knowing that he's been frozen for three hundred years, that's OK."

Michael was sitting patiently on the biobed. His ice-blue gaze was somewhat unsettling. It reminded Kirk of the child's father.

"He's OK to keep on the ship?"

"Yeah. I might keep him under periodical surveillance, just to make sure. We don't want him going all... Well, you know."

"Yeah. I know."

"Can I go now?" Michael's voice sounded from behind them. Kirk smiled. The boy's voice was only slightly touched by British, along with being numerous octaves higher than his father's. "I want to go see Miss Carol." He looked down, suddenly apologetic. "She told me she'd wait for me in my room."

"Well, if Uncle John says yes."

"Sure. I'll clean up here and then be back aboard the ship in no time."

Kirk lifted Michael off of the biobed. "Let's go see your room aboard the _Enterprise_." He carried him out of the medbay.

"En-tur-prize? What does that mean?"

Kirk smiled. "Well, enterprise means a kind of adventure. _Enterprise_ is the name of our ship. And she carries us on all kinds of adventures."

"Oh, OK." Michael thought for a moment. "Wait... She? Why do you call a ship a she? Why not a he? Or an it? It isn't a person, right?"

"I don't know why we call the ship a she. I guess that's just how we do it."

Michael nestled into his shoulder. "Oh. Well, I guess it doesn't have to make sense."

They quickly arrived at the transporter pad.

"What is this? It looks like a trash vaporizer."

"Well, we have to go back to the ship. But the ship is in space, so we have to transport there." He walked towards the transporter.

"Through space? How?" Michael looked up at him. Kirk stopped.

"Err..." Kirk wondered how he could get the concept of a transporter through to the equivalent of a kindergartner. "Well, our bodies are made of tiny little pieces called atoms. Atoms are so tiny we can't see them. The transporter breaks us down into atoms and then teleports them to the _Enterprise_ , where the transporter there reassembles the atoms into us."

Michael looked in horror at the transporter. "Sounds like a vaporizer to me."

"Well, I guess it is- sort of. Except you come out the other end."

"And what if it doesn't put us back together right? What if it doesn't put us back together at all? Then it really IS a vaporizer!"

"Now, hold on a second-"

"No! Why can't we just use a little ship? You still have one of those little ships that dock with the big ones!" He looked at the transporter again, then clung tight to Kirk's shirt. "I'm not going into a vaporizer!"

"Well, a fear of the transporter is OK. A lot of people have it. In fact, Uncle John doesn't like the transporter either." Michael looked up at him. "Sure. Uncle John uses a shuttle."

"Let's wait for him, then, and use the shuttle. I can wait!"

Kirk turned to the transporter operator and mouthed, 'Sorry!' Before carrying Michael out of the room. The operator simply shrugged.

"I'm sorry, Robin. I know it's a lot of trouble."

"Don't mention it, kiddo. Its important that you feel safe, not scared."

Michael sighed deeply.

"What is it, Mikey?"

"When the Augments got into the sleepy pods, we were all really scared. We knew that a lot of people didn't like us and wanted to hurt us just because they didn't like us. Daddy was really worried and scared. But not of the people. He was worried and scared for us. He didn't want anyone to hurt us. That's why we went into the sleepy pods, anyways. He knew that people wanted to hurt us, so he decided to leave until everyone forgot. He wanted us to be safe again."

"That's... really sad."

"I asked Uncle John about daddy. Uncle John said that daddy had done some bad things, and he was punished by getting put back into his sleepy pod."

"Well, Khan did do some bad things. He hurt a lot of people."

"Daddy wasn't bad! He was just ill! He was always that way. Daddy got mad a lot because he couldn't sleep well or think right. He had a lot of nightmares; sometimes he'd see things that weren't there and he couldn't tell if they were real or not. Sometimes he'd shake real hard and he'd do strange things and he wouldn't be normal for awhile... It was all the scientists' fault! They made him sick!"

Kirk put Michael down. He knelt and looked Michael in the eye."What did they call it? What did the scientists call it? Do you remember?"

Michael looked up thoughtfully. "They had big words for daddy's problems. Insomnia. Schizophrenia. Epilepsy. Paranoia. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder."

"Epilepsy?" Kirk stood and began walking with Michael to the shuttle.

"He'd shake and tense up. Then he'd do odd things like opening his hands and closing them again. Sometimes he'd hit his leg with his hand so hard it would bruise. Sometimes he'd even fall down. They called it a seizure." Michael thought more.

Kirk was still trying to wrap his head around the fact that Khan was epileptic.

"Daddy took a lot of medicine. He took little pills in the morning and syrup at night. He wanted to sleep well and stop the seizures and the Visions. He just wanted to be normal, like a human."

"Huh. Epileptic."

Michael stared up at him incredulously. "It wasn't just him. A lot of the Augments had to take medicine for problems. There's a price to be paid for being better. Yes, humans don't have super strength like daddy, but a lot of them don't have to worry about seizures and Visions."

"You don't have those problems, do you? Uncle John would have told me."

Michael stopped in his tracks. His eyes turned cold. "You aren't Robin."

"What?"

Michael screeched accusingly at Kirk, drawing the attention of several passers by. "You aren't Robin! Robin knew about daddy!" The boy clenched his eyes, grit his teeth, and began hitting his head with his hands. "I should have known! I should have known! You asked too many questions! You don't know enough!" His demeanor changed back to accusing. "Who are you?!"

Kirk hesitated, then decided that the truth was officially out of the bag. He knelt down to face Michael. "My name is Jim. Jim Kirk. Robin was a great great grandfather of mine. We're still family, sort of."

Michael's voice took on a hint of sarcasm. "So Uncle John isn't Uncle John, either."

"No... His name is Dr. McCoy."

"You lied to me! Why did you lie?"

"I thought it would make you feel safer."

Michael resumed shouting. "Well, I don't like being lied to! I'd rather be standing on pins and needles than on a smooth floor that someone is going to pull out from under me!"

"Please, Michael. I just wanted to keep you safe. Give me one more chance. Please? No more lies. I promise."

Michael narrowed his eyes. "If you promise, you have to mean it. No exceptions. Ever."

Kirk held outstretched arms. "I promise. No more lies."

"Alright." Michael accepted the hug. "We'll try this again...But I'm holding you to your word."

Kirk picked the boy up. "Fine by me." He began walking again. "Come on, let's get to that shuttle before the Doc leaves without us."

* * *

Hi.

Firstly, I want to say that even though it isn't March 26, Epilepsy awareness is important.

Secondly, there is a reason for all of Khan's ailments. I wasn't just being mean or stereotyping.

Thirdly, the next chapter features a lot of rivalry between Spock and Michael, and I hope you look forward to that- I certainly do.

Lastly, Please please please. I'm publishing a story that you can read for free. And it's nice to know that you actually are reading it, and didn't type in the URL on accident. So, even if you can't stand how OOC this story is, please review. It honestly means a lot.

Please excuse all grammatical errors.

All rights to respective owners.


	6. Chapter 6

Hehe. Hi. I'm really not working on Letters like I'm supposed to be.

Anyways.

This is the chapter you've all been waiting for. Spock and Michael showdown. Let's go.

* * *

"Michael, what was your father like?"

Kirk was carrying the boy towards the shuttle. The little boy stared up at him in curiosity at his question.

"I mean, I only saw what he was like when he was doing bad things. What was he like to you and everyone else?"

"I already told you he wasn't a bad man, but...Well, it's kind of hard to say how daddy was. He just made you feel nice and warm inside."

"Nice and warm?"

"It's a cruel world, Mr. Kirk. Like I said before, people didn't have time for us. They didn't like us and they wanted to get rid of us. For keeps. We tried to run away, but they found us. They didn't just want us to go away. They wanted to _end_ us. All of us."

"I guess you never really felt safe, did you?"

"But daddy made me feel safe. He would get angry sometimes, but it was a good angry. He just wanted to keep everyone together and keep us safe. Daddy was never angry at us. He was angry at the scientists and soldiers who wanted to hurt our people."

"He kept telling me that his crew was his family."

"And that was right. Every Augment was family. After the Terrible Day, daddy only had his crew for a family- except for Jade, of course."

"Who was Jade? You said that Carol looked like Jade."

"Jade was daddy's little sister- my aunt. She was named for the color of her eyes."

"I see."

"Jade was really nice. She helped mommy do lots of things."

"Like what?"

"Well, after daddy and mommy led everyone away from the canyon, they had to start everything all over again. They had to build new houses and plant new fields. Mommy was good with farming and she helped people grow food. The Homelanders grew all sorts of veggies and grains. They had lots of orchards, too. The Homelanders were really important. Feeding everyone wasn't easy."

Kirk smiled at Michael. "What did you want to be when you grew up? A fighter or a... What was it- Homelander?"

"You don't understand. We split the work up. The men would trade between farming and fighting."

"Sounds like the draft."

"Huh?"

"Err.. Nothing. What did the women do?"

"They were Homelanders. They would take care of... Everything while the men went off to fight."

"Sounds kind of..."

"Sexist?" Michael looked at Kirk thoughtfully. "Not really. None of the women wanted to go off to war. And some of the men just wanted to raise a family. Daddy was kind of like that."

"Really? He ruled Asia with an iron fist. He was the leader of the Augments; that meant he had to fight." They arrived at the shuttle bay. McCoy wasn't there yet.

"Well, yes- daddy was the leader by blood right, but Uncle John did most of the fighting."

"Uncle John... John Harrison?"

"John became Prime Minister of England, and took over Europe. Daddy ruled the Asian half... But it wasn't fair! Daddy had to work to rule Asia. He could have become Prime Minister. If he wanted to, anyways..."

Kirk chuckled. "Khan Noonien Singh for Prime Minister."

"Who?"

"Khan Noonien Singh." Michael just blinked. "Your dad."

Michael shook his head. "Daddy's name was William. William Gregory FitzSimmons."

"Well- then... Khan wasn't your-"

"Khan was what the _scientists_ called him." Michael looked at Kirk coldly. "They called him Khan because he was the leader by right of the Augments. That's what 'Khan' means. Leader. They didn't care that he already had a name. He used 'Khan' around normal people, but to the Augments, he was still William FitzSimmons. And anyways, Khan sounds much more threatening than William."

"You're pretty smart for a little kid."

Michael shrugged. "The elders tell lots of stories about all sorts of things. And we have good memories." He nestled his head into Kirk's shoulder.

McCoy came into view as he turned the corner.

"Hey! Bones!"

McCoy rushed Kirk and hissed into his ear, "are you out of your mind? What about-"

"The truth is out of the bag, Bones. He knows we aren't his family."

"Oh... Why are you here then?"

Kirk shrugged. "He doesn't like the transporter. He thinks it looks like a vaporizer."

"Well at least someone agrees with me."

"Hehe- yeah. Let's get going."

 _ **Later...**_

"Wow! This is a really, really big room!" Michael's blue eyes glittered with excitement as they traveled from one side of the room to the other.

"You think so?"

Carol elbowed Kirk in the side. "Of course it is!" She gave him a sideways glance. "You can go back to the bridge. I can handle this one."

Kirk shrugged. "Well, it's almost O-hundred hours. I was going to go back to bed. But if you want to handle Mikey by yourself, that's fine by me. But if you need something, holler. OK?"

"Sure thing." She pointed to Michael, who had his face pressed to the glass of the inset aquarium. "But I don't think he'll be much trouble."

Kirk smiled. "Just feel free to ask." He turned and walked away down the hall.

"Michael! Come over here." The boy's attention was fully on the aquarium, most notably its lone inhabitant.

"Carnivore. Semi-aggressive. Venomous. Scorpaenidae. Pterois volitans..." He looked at her. A broad smile grew on his face. "Red lionfish. What's his name?"

"I don't think he has a name."

"A fish without a name?" He turned back to the tank. "How rude." He thought for a moment. "Threshfarer. That's your name. You're going to be called Threshfarer."

Carol smiled. "Well, now that you've named your fish, how about looking at some of the other things you have?"

Michael turned away from the aquarium and walked over to her. "OK."

"Now this is your be-"

She didn't get to finish. Michael sprang up onto the bed and began jumping. His laughter rang throughout the hall.

"This is great!"

Carol smirked. It was hard to stay upset- especially when the boy had the largest grin of the year plastered on his face. "How about I leave you to yourself for a bit? There's nothing in here that you could hurt yourself on- short of falling off of chairs and things."

"Don't worry. I'll be careful."

"You can unpack on your own?"

"Ya." Michael continued jumping.

"Alright. Just don't go wandering off around the ship. People might not like that much."

"OK... By the way, who else is sharing this room?"

"There is no one else sharing this room. You get one all to yourself, since you're a guest."

"My own room? Wow!" Michael jumped even higher.

Carol turned around and strode out of the room smiling as laughter filled the hall once more.

Michael sprawled out on the bed. He gave a blissful sigh. Everything was so _big_ here! And there were no loud noises form explosions above. No cement falling in chunks off of the ceiling. No dust, either. It seemed so peaceful. He looked out the window to his left, seeing thousands of stars. He never saw stars back home. No one back home even went out of the bunker past dusk. Most people tried to spend time below ground as much as possible, for safety if nothing else. And now he was farther from solid ground than he ever would have dreamed to be. Yes; it wasn't home, but the Enterprise was somewhat convenient and quite comfortable. He smiled and ran his hand over the soft bedspread. He could get used to this.

The beeping of the door woke him from his daydreaming. "Come." Carol coming to check on him... but... It shouldn't be Carol. She just left. And Kirk was probably well on his way back to his quarters. He tipped his head to the side as the doors slid open.

Commander... Spock strode into the room. Michael sat up. His legs dangled over the side. What did the commander want? _To see if I'm settling nicely?_ _Not likely_ , his mind told him. _His stance is wrong, and he's tense. If he was asking to see if you had gotten well acquainted with your room, his expression wouldn't be quite so taut, and his eyes wouldn't be glittering with... whatever that expression was._

Aloud, Michael said,"Oh, Mr. Spock! What a nice surprise." He motioned to his surroundings. "You have a very nice starship." He smiled brightly.

"You do not belong here."

"Sorry?"

"You. Your kind. You do not belong here."

"My kind? I'm sorry if I seem rather ignorant- what do you mean?"

"You're an _Augment_ ," the commander hissed. "You do not belong here on this ship."

Michael's eyes began to glitter with cold fire. "Oh, so _that's_ what you mean by 'my kind'," the boy sneered. "Being an Augment must make you some sort of animal, or something."

"Your race has looked down upon the humans since you were created."

"Oh, it's racial hatred now." Michael walked over to the window and looked at the stars.

"Not racial hatred. The preservation of my ship and crew requires that you are not here on this ship. You are a superior being. You will see others as inferior. That will eventually be detrimental to the crew and our mission." Spock squirmed with unease when Michael fell silent for more than a minute.

"And what about you... Half-breed?" Michael gave a slight smirk when he realized he'd hurt a tender spot. "Your mother was human. Father a... Vulcan, he said. Your people, by what I can guess form the Captain's conversation with McCoy, are rather bigoted, aren't they? I would assume you faced quite a bit of racial hatred. Stereotyping. Bullying." Michael paused.

Spock tipped his head to the side. Michael picked up on it immediately.

"So that's it. Bullying. In the height of youth? My, my, my." He turned around slowly. "Would it please you to know that the Augments faced... Quite a bit of bullying in our time?"

"Bullying is not the correct terminology... And another thing. You were the villains. Not the victims, or what your teachers have put into your mind."

"They were the elders, and they knew what they were talking about," Michael spat. "Do you know what the scientists did to us? To everyone who lived in the canyon..."

"Historical accounts say-"

"Historical accounts?" Michael stared at him in mock wonder. "So that's what they call mass murder these days."

"Mass murder?"

"Genocide." He gave a slight smile when Sopck shifted with unease. "Logic says that you can't make a decision on an idea until you have heard both arguments for and against said idea...Would you like to hear our side of the story?"

* * *

Yes. I just gave you our first cliffie.

I figured that Michael's cuteness really doesn't mix with the content of next chapter, thus I made it next chapter. If that makes any sense at all.

I'm sorry that I have sort of disappeared from fanfiction a bit- I've just been so busy with other things that something has to take the back burner, and I've decided that it's fanfiction. Not that I don't love you guys, but I have lots of other things on my plate at the moment. Don't worry, I'll try to give you a warning for disappearances, and if I don't give you a warning, assume that the chapter I'm working on is just taking forever.

Please review.

Please excuse errors.

All rights to respective owners.


	7. Chapter 7

Hi. Yes, I know that it's been a rather long time, but I suppose that with all of my school and such, there really wasn't much avoiding it.

This chapter is very much T. If you don't remember what it exactly was about from the last chapter, I suggest you proceed with caution. As well as some content that usually doesn't make it into my fictions- marriage.

* * *

No. NO This wasn't happening. This couldn't happen. This wasn't supposed to happen. This... A single tear threatened to squeeze itself out of Khan's eye.

The entire canyon was ablaze. Smoke plumes rose high into the night sky. The orange flames licked at the stars. He could see the bright glow of lazer fire. The transport they had was an open cabin, so even the sound of the roaring flames were vaguely detectable.

Nala squeezed his shoulder. It did not grant him the usual feeling of assurance. "They will still be fighting. The battle is not over yet." The words did not console, but rather infuriated him. He gunned the engines and moved lower to the ground.

He looked up at her. "Nala, get the rifles; we're going to need them, I think."

Robin strode up to them. The five-year-old tugged on his adopted mothe ants leg. "Mama, Why does it smell like smoke?"

"Come, Robin; it isn't safe here." She picked him up and bundled him into a storage compartment refit to be sleeping area. She ducked as a huge transport rushed past them, and set down right at the rim of the canyon. Soldiers poured out of it and swarmed into the canyon.

They could now hear the lazer rifles igniting.

Nala handed him several rifles of their own. He left one in her hands. "If it comes to it, you need to defend yourself and Robin." He placed a light kiss on her lips.

He turned to look at his best friend, who was presently loading his M134 Minigun L-variant. "You got my back, John?"

John set the gun with a foreboding _clack_. "Always."

"Let's do it!"

Khan cut the engines, and the ship glided to a halt just before the troop transport.

He quickly dispatched the guards, and they both rushed into the chaos that enveloped the canyon. They fought in unison, one never pushing to far ahead of the other.

Khan looked around at the situation. It was hard to think past the soldiers that continually fired their lazer rifles at them. He surveyed the canyon floor. The ground was wet and muddy- obviously from the destroyed water tank. The other Augments were resisting as well.

"Check your fire, John! There are still Augments fighting!"

John simply laughed as he sprayed the canyon wall with lazer fire and gunned down a few dozen soldiers in the process. "Easy for you to say! You don't have a rotary!" His tone changed to somber. "Don't worry. I'll be careful!"

"I need to check the houses- see if there's anyone trapped; cover me!"

Khan rushed into one of the burning hovels to find several soldiers holding a family at gunpoint. He quickly freed the family, then tossed the father one of the laser rifles he had slung over his shoulder. Khan led them out of the house.

"Nahodha, get your family out of the canyon, then come back to help us here."

Nahodha dipped his head curtly, then guided his family away.

"Mr. FitzSimmons! Help!"

Benjamin Moran was fighting off droves of soldiers trying to enter his home. His father was slumped over right in front of the house.

Khan made a double take. Nicholas Moran laid still and unresponsive.

He looked around the canyon. Similar heaps laid all around in the mud.

The gruesome sight filled him with resolve, and he leaped into the fray.

 _Later..._

The soldiers were gone. More properly, the soldiers were dead.

Khan looked around as he walked. There were... Likely hundreds of bodies lying still in the mud. Both soldiers and Augments.

He knelt down beside the body of a little girl. The child's eyes were wide in shock and horror at the soldier's brutality, and there was a large burn mark on the back her of shirt. Khan put his head in his hands. This wasn't supposed to happen. No one her age should have to face a horrible death such as this. He stood up.

He looked around at the other bodies strewn around the muddy canyon floor. He lifted his eyes to the starry sky. Tears began to flow freely down his cheeks. Entire families executed in the same, terrible way that the little girl was. The soldiers had trapped the elderly in their homes, and then lit the hovels on fire. Every single one of them was someone he knew- someone he held close.

John hurriedly ran up to him.

"William, come quickly."

He did not turn to look at his best friend. "What is it?"

John was on the verge of tears. "It- it's your family... You're not going to like this."

He whirled around on his foot and pushed past John, running to where his home was. John hurriedly followed him.

"Nahodha and Manfred found your mother and brothers in your house." Khan stopped in his tracks. "The roof collapsed while they were inside; we barely got _them_ out."

Khan managed a glimpse inside the building that was at the moment engulfed in flames. He tried to get closer, but a hand grabbing his left arm kept him in place. He heard John's voice in his ear. "It's not safe. We can't afford to lose anyone else right now." Khan tried to shake John's grip loose. John refused to yield, and instead clenched his fist tighter. Khan felt his humerus collapsing in.

"Let me go! I've got to get them out," he wailed.

John pulled the distraught man away. He forced Khan to look him in the eye. "We cannot risk it."

"I've got to get them out!" Khan made one last effort to get to the hovel, and John collapsed his grip, crushing his friend's arm entirely.

Khan howled in rage and pain, then slowly knelt on the dirt, holding his arm. He began to weep over his lost family.

"We can't afford any foolishness on our part, Will. We just can't." John looked woefully at the burning house, the white spackle releasing terrible fumes into the air. "I would have gone in there to get them out- I would have, Will. But it was just too dangerous." He knelt down next to his friend. "We need everyone here- everyone. In mind and body. If it was any other situation, I would have gotten them out myself." He paused. "Remember. YOU _are_ the leader by right of the Augments." He pointed to the remaining Augment families huddled in the shadow made by a rock outcropping in the light of the flames. "They need a leader."

Khan dried his tears and stood. He pointed to the house- using the arm that had already begun to mend itself after being crushed by John. "This is why we must fight, brothers and sisters. This is what will happen to _all_ of us if we huddle in fear as mice and allow the scientists to rule over us and steal our children to make their armies." He could taste the growing patriotism in the air. He turned to face them fully. "Now, I am William Gregory FitzSimmons the son of our Khan, Robert Jedediah FitzSimmons; I now claim my blood right to take his place. Will you accept me as your leader?"

The canyon resounded with a cheer.

John strode up to Khan. "Very good speech," he commented. "The question is, can you keep your promises?"

"Oh, I can and I will." He quieted the remaining Augments down. "This is my newly christened general- John Philip Harrison. He is my second in command, and his orders are mine."

"Well, now, this will be fun," John muttered almost inaudibly.

"Now, the first order of business is to find a safe place in the caves to rest tonight. My wife Nala will take several of the housewives, Nahodha, and Yeong to find a suitable place to stay. The rest of the women and the children will remain here with Seth Strudwick and Casimiro... The men will come with me to salvage what we can of the homes, put out the fires, and bring out the lost to receive the Dues." He paused to think. "We will not let this deed go unpunished, but for now, we must keep hold of what little we have left. Let's go."

John leaned over to him and whispered in his ear. "There is no way we can put out these fires. It just isn't practical. We'd be better off to just salvage what little we can and leave. And counting up the dead will take a lot of time, and some of the Augments fled the canyon entirely. It will take too much time. More soldiers are going to come around here, and we can't afford to risk everyone else."

"John, I know that it isn't practical, and maybe it isn't even sanitary or safe, but all of our fallen deserve a proper burial. We mustn't simply leave them out here in the elements. It just isn't right." He paused. "And all of the soldiers will receive a burial as well."

"Now you're just being difficult. We do NOT have the time for that."

"We'll make time, John. We'll make time."

* * *

Well, what can I say?

Yes, I promised that you would have a Spock/Michael showdown, but... Yeah. I wanted to write it from a firsthand perspective...

Anyways.

Yeah, I know that I haven't been writing much, but I've lately been undeniably up to my ears in studies, and that makes things a bit hard.

Please review.

Please excuse grammatical errors.

All rights to respective owners.


	8. Chapter 8

Hey. We broke 10,000 words with this chapter.

I know it's really cliché, but this story wouldn't be like this without your support. Really.

A HUUUUGGGE shout-out to _Sassiebone_ , because all reviews thus far on this story are theirs. It means a lot. Really.

But I'm rambling now, and you obviously want to see what I have in store for everyone next. So here we go.

A warning for T. I mean... Bad.

* * *

Michael looked coldly up at Commander Spock.

"My father was not the villain. He was _never_ the villain."

Spock still stared straight into the boy's ice-blue eyes, trying to process what he had just heard.

"Historical records do make mention of the attack on the Augment colony."

"Is that the best you can do?" Michael sneered at Spock (frighteningly well for being a small child).

"The Eugenics project had to be halted because of the volatile nature of its results. All products of the experiments had to be terminated-"

" _MURDERED_ ," Michael screeched. "They were killed in cold blood! They were slaughtered like dogs in the street!"

"The Augments resisted the control of their makers. The scientists could not control them-"

"And how would you respond to slavery? We were created to take over he world, and then hand it over for the scientists to rule." The expression on his face was that of a person with a vile taste in their mouth. "We were to be soldiers in an army of superior beings that would bend the world to the will of the scientists. Those men were _insane_. And they paid for it dearly."

"It was an injust act- an act of war to kill Aaron LeClerk."

"My father rescued Robin from an abusive father. And even so, it didn't give them an excuse to try to kill everyone!"

"Even without the prodding of the scientists, your people still attempted to force the world into submission. Many of the Augments were cruel to their subjects. Your father was the only exception."

"That was a lie. We only produced peace in a world that knew no peace." Michael turned back to the window. "But they would rather have had their war. They overthrew our rule; condemned us for crimes never committed."

"You expect me to believe what you tell me, when you are obviously biased in favor of your people. I can listen to your arguments no longer."

Spock said nothing as he strode out of the room.

Michael sighed heavily and sat down on the bed. Why couldn't he have said that to make someone believe him? Why didn't anyone believe him? Just because he was a kid. He could never say it right- the right way to make a good argument. He sighed again.

He rolled up his sleeve to look at his right forearm. The serum had almost absorbed entirely. He stretched. The greenish gel had already begun to take effect- he just knew it. Michael could feel the tingle in his bones as they were strengthened for the four-month ordeal ahead. He could sense the enhancements of memory and intelligence. He could feel himself growing- the cells of his body beginning to multiply at tremendous rate. All the same, he felt no pain. And he was glad for that.

His father had possessed much foresight to adapt the Metamorphosis Serum. It had originally been a creation by the scientists of the Eugenics project; a vile concoction intended to enhance an Augment's strength, intelligence, and healing abilities even beyond that which they already had to begin with.

But the Khan wasn't satisfied with the original serum, or its results. The enhanced strength and agility also meant nasty side effects like seizures, paranoia, psychopathy, and Post-traumatic Stress. The Khan adapted the serum to work over a period of several months to adapt a child gradually from the age of four- instead of the scientists' method to age a child from ten to twenty in only a few hours. The Metamorphosis 2.0, as he had called it, meant no drastically negative side- effects with the same enhancements.

Michael chuckled. But it wasn't side-effect- free. It itched and tingled, and he was hungry enough to eat a horse. Still, it didn't hurt. That was the main goal that his father had aimed for. A pain-free transition, and one that wasn't as potentially lethal as the original serum.

Another knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Come in," Michael said offhandedly.

"It's me, Dr. McCoy. The- uh... the door won't open. You've got it locked."

Michael jumped off of the bed and ran to the door. It didn't open.

"All due respect, sir. It wasn't me. Mr. Spock must have locked me in."

Michael could hear the doctor hiss a curse under his breath before entering a security code into the outside panel. The door promptly opened. "Now why would that pointy- eared hobgoblin lock a little boy in his own room?" He sat down on he bed with Michael.

"It's because I'm an Augment. He doesn't trust me. He thinks I'm dangerous. He doesn't like me. He doesn't like me because of my father."

McCoy looked on in what Michael could only assume was pity.

"Why are you here, doctor? You made a... house-call for some reason..."

"Oh, yeah, umm... Well, something... interesting showed up in the blood test. It wasn't a bad thing, and I'm sure it's nothing, but I just want to check. Is that OK with you?" He pulled out a hypospray and took another blood sample.

'You found Metamorphosis, didn't you? The greenish stain on my arm- the foreign chemicals in my blood. It's amazing that it's still effective after all this time." He looked up at the doctor. "I know what you'll find, doctor. My father was the one who made it. It's safe; he made sure..." Michael trailed off.

Tears began to well in the little boy's eyes as he thought of his father. What his father had done for him, and for everyone. What his father looked like, and felt like. He thought of the strong, steady arms that would pick him up and put him in his bed each night. He thought of the gentle smile. The bright eyes. The face that bade Michael farewell when he slipped into cryosleep. The one person that Michael hoped he would see when he awoke. And the one that wasn't there- that wouldn't be there on this brand-new adventure.

Dr. McCoy's voice brought him out of his daze. "You really miss him, don't you? Your dad." He put his arm around Michael's shoulders.

Michael rested his head in McCoy's side, and the doctor decided to simply pull the child into his lap outright. Michael nestled into his arms.

"I really really miss him." Tears began to slide down the boy's face. "My father always made me feel safe. He protected me from the danger. From people like Mr. Spock. And now he isn't here. He can't be here. But I want him to be here. I really want him to be here." He buried his face into McCoy's shirt.

McCoy simply stroked the boy's hair in response and held him closer.

The doctor stayed there until Michael cried himself to sleep.

* * *

Yes, yes, I know. A terrible chapter.

Please excuse grammatical errors.

Please review.

All rights to respective owners.


	9. Chapter 9

Hey. Again you probably would like me to update faster, but hey- I write as it comes.

And I intend to craft stories, not just write them.

* * *

Khan looked at his wife Nala, who was peacefully in cryosleep. A single tear squeezed itself out of his eye. _Why did things have to be this way? Why couldn't things have been different? Why were the humans able to overthrow us? Why couldn't I keep my family safe?_ He looked over at his son, Michael, who was also in cryosleep. Seeing his son in that state spawned memories.

 ** _Several months before..._**

 _"We'll be royalty, Michael! We'll rule over the whole world. You'll be my little prince!" He smiled brightly at his son._

 _The toddler's attention stayed on the truck he was rolling back and forth on the carpeted floor._

 _"Being a prince would be fun! And later on you'd be king!"_

 _The toddler still did not look away from the truck, only stopped rolling it._

 _"We would live in a palace, and we would have people to jump at our every beckon and call."_

 _Michael only looked up at his father thoughtfully. He looked up at the cracked concrete ceiling, then back at his father, and then to the ceiling again. His eyebrows scrunched and his eyes darted back and forth as if he were deciding between two scenarios. He looked at his father again._

 _"I'd rather be safe from the bombs than be king, Daddy."_

 _Khan took his son in his arms and held him. "I would too, Michael." Khan lightly kissed his son's forehead and smiled. "We'll be safe. I promise."_

 ** _In the Present..._**

Khan looked away.

 _Why couldn't I keep my promise?_

Robin's voice brought him out of his thoughts.

"Dad, we-uh- we're almost ready to go. Do you want to say goodbye to anyone else?"

"If I did that, this ship would never get offworld." Khan gave a playful smirk at Robin. He fondly surveyed the columns of cryotubes along the walls of the corridor.

"Hard to believe, isn't it, Dad?"

"Hm?"

"That you were so close. And now you have to... go into hiding."

"We aren't hiding." He sighed. Well then what were they doing? Fleeing their homeworld, forbidden by penalty of death of returning... "We're resting. Waiting. We'll be back." He ruffled the sixteen-year-old's hair.

Robin walked over to a particular cryotube and gently ran his hand over the glass.

"I just- I know that she's technically my aunt and all, but Jade has always seemed like more of a sister to me." He turned to his father. "I'm really gonna miss her." He looked around at all of the cryotubes. "I'm gonna miss all of them. Especially those little kids." He gave a wry smile. "even as annoying as they were. They were family. Everyone was family..." He trailed off.

"The pride and joy of the Augments... I'll miss them, too..." Khan sighed, then looked back towards the door to the outside. "Y'know, Elizabeth is still waiting for you outside."

"Yeah... Well, I guess you get to wish me luck, eh?"

"And congratulations on any future children, hm?"

"Well, maybe."

They stood there in silence for a few minutes more. Finally Khan decided that it was time, and he carefully laid down in the cryotube.

Robin looked wistfully at him, and crossed his arms over the edge of the cryotube. "I hope that I'll be the one who gets to open up your cryotube again."

"Don't get too much hope up. The people's opinion might not change for awhile."

"You mean I'll be too old to remember the codes? That I might forget?"

"More like... you'll be too dead to even care." He smiled and ruffled the boy's hair again. "Remember, humans don't let go of grudges easily. It may be decades or even centuries before they realize the truth and we are sought out again."

"Maybe...I want to think that it won't take long for everyone else to realize what I've known all along. I want to see you again, dad." Robin stood up.

"Fair enough." He set the timer. "Goodbye, son."

"Fare thee well, William Gregory Fitzsimmons."

The top of the cryotube slid into place with a _whoosh_ and a cloud of vapor. All of the Augments were asleep.

Robin started to walk back out of the room. The ship's computer was set for liftoff only a few minutes after the last cryotube sequence was completed.

He sighed. Even though he had said that he hoped he might get to wake his father up, he was pretty sure he wouldn't see any of them again. He was almost certain. But maybe people he knew might. Maybe.

He turned to look back fondly at his family. The only family he had known for the past... Twelve years.

The bonds of family were strong. Even if he was dead before the Augments were free again, the bonds of family would survive it. They would out last him. Outlast all of them. Perhaps a maybe was good enough.

Robin looked around once more... And smiled.

* * *

Yes, I know that for all of your waiting this wasn't much, but hey. I'm actually writing! Hooray!

Ahem.

I want to thank _Sassiebone_ again. Without them, well... I think this story would still be a oneshot... So if you liked this story, then please tell _Sassiebone_ a big thanks!

(Heheh, and reviewing wouldn't be a bad idea, either... *sheepish grin*)

Please excuse all errors.

All rights to respective owners.


	10. Chapter 10

Hello, noble people of the StarTrek fandom! I have finally returned with a new chapter!

I was stricken mightily with Writer's Block, and was unhappily lazing about instead of doing writing. And I am still suffering from the Writer's Block, but hopefully I can pull myself out sometime.

Ah... T.

* * *

 _They had never been normal. Never. No matter how hard they tried, no matter what they did. They were never just people. Never just citizens. Never brothers to those they lived amongst. Never family._

 _They were always abnormal. Always. They tried to find ways to reverse the effects of Metamorphosis with no success. They were always Augments. Always the outsiders. Always aliens to those they lived with. Always unwelcome._

 _Perhaps their world just wasn't ready for them yet. But it had to be, didn't it? Why else would it have fostered them? Why else would it have allowed them to exist if they were not to rise up, as they were promised?_

 _The Augments were created to rule, their creators told them. They were created to conquer and subjugate the earth and its inhabitants. Disillusioned, they attempted to do, what they thought, was their lot in life. Perhaps humans knew them as those who were captivated by thoughts of supremacy. Those who actively, and sometimes violently, attempted to fulfill what was programmed into their minds as their duty._

 _Eventually they were subdued and recaptured. And of course, reprogrammed. They were taught not only to subjugate the earth, but also to obey commands from superiors without question. They were stripped of their identity as living, breathing beings- deprived of the things they were told were the essential rights of all things that had life._

 _The scientists of the Project filled their blood with strange chemicals in an attempt to make them stronger, to make them more battle-hardy, to make them more cunning, and above all to make them more obedient. Finally, the scientists created a substance they thought would fill all of their needs. They called it a miracle in the name of science. They named it Metamorphosis._

 _The Metamorphosis created in an Augment enhanced strength, intelligence, and self-healing capacity. It killed normal humans. The scientists tried. Dozens of times. Of course, it would occasionally kill an Augment, too. About 7 to 3 odds (favoring survival, the scientists would take extra-special care to inform the horrified press). After all, an external substance that altered DNA code was nothing to take lightly. And all in the name of science, the deranged men in white lab coats who marched in tall, shiny black boots down antiseptic halls continued their inhumane experiments._

 _Of course, they had to admit, Metamorphosis wasn't perfect. In the Augments who survived, there would usually be life-altering side effects. Notably, Post- traumatic Stress. Schizophrenia. Epilepsy. It also had a nasty and undesirable tendency to turn subjects insane (about 1 in 5). Subjects deemed insane were immediately tagged as Deviants and terminated._

 _Eventually, the politicians discovered what was happening in the Augment Project. Realizing that the Project was stealing away too much money from the budget, and not enough money in return, they finally decided to stop turning a blind eye to the situation. They were horrified at what they saw. They commanded that the Augments, as a threat to humanity, should be banished to a desert canyon. They did not, however, stop the Project entirely._

 _The Augments were not entirely displeased- in fact, it was quite the opposite. Finally they could roam as they pleased within the canyon. They could run and jump and feel the warm sunshine on their pale, light-deprived faces. They could have easily be seen as children, merrily exploring the new world they were allowed, spying out nooks and crannies and caves, and deciding where their houses ought to be._

 _And, for a time, they were happy. The elderly folks could sit on their porches at night and enjoy the soft light that the beacon in the town square provided. The women could be seen tending to their vegetable gardens. The men could be found building structures such as houses and aqueducts. Apprentices bustled about, learning new trade skills. Sometimes you could even hear the children laugh._

 _And yet, in a heartbeat, a child could realize that it was not a life that he or she had been living. That their whole world was a façade. That beneath the quiet external exhibition of the canyon, the Augment Project was still alive and well and active, ready to steal children away to create them into the new generation of super-humans._

 _Augments cannot be born. Despite what anyone else (namely- the scientists of the Project) says. It is physically impossible for one to be born with all of the super-human abilities characteristics of an Augment. Even with genetic engineering, a human cannot attain the necessary DNA alterations. The most genetic engineering could attain was the equivalent of those known among humans as achievers._

 _Some Augments that escaped in the infancy stages of the Project became professors, or even soldiers. Those that did manage to escape the ever-watchful eye of the Project were usually recognized in the countries to which they fled as intellectuals who won awards, or soldiers who were decorated. But they were still ambiguous._

 _Augments without the Metamorphosis were achievers- not super-human. And the scientists would not have it._

 _So, while it seemed as though the Augments had received more freedom (it did to most everyone), it was only a tool of deception. A lie. An illusion._

 _And it was so, because they were still kept down. Beaten down. Stricken with the metaphorical rod as soon as they lifted their heads from the proverbial dirt._

 _They were slaughtered like animals after the alleged murder of Aaron LeClerk and his son._

 _They rose up with the guidance of a newly christened leader to repay their betrayers for trespasses committed._

 _They were fought. And yet, against overwhelming odds, they continued to survive. They continued to resist the powers trying to wipe their name from the face of the Earth._

 _But they were eventually overthrown. They were put down. They were captured. Chained like dogs. Put on trial. Sentenced. Condemned. Mocked. Jeered at._

 _Then, in response, they escaped from their prison._

 _With their Khan at the helm, they looked risk in the eye, and it blinked._

 _They escaped certain death, only to walk into the abyss of uncertainty. But they walked courageously._

 _And perhaps that is why the Augments seem to lack fear. While they have a leader, and breath in their bodies, the fire that burns in their hearts for freedom shall never be extinguished. They will walk the road to justice for as long as it takes._

Khan gave a slight smirk. The pencil continued.

 _And not that they wouldn't like it to be a little bit easier, but it's just the concept._

 _A Brief History of the Augment Peoples' Experiences , as told by _

_William Gregory FitzSimmons_

* * *

Well, What did you think? Any good?

Yes, yes, I know. I ribbed on the scientists a **lot**. I use the satire of the whole situation to comment about what I see wrong with the world today. That's just the way I do things. If think you can find them all, tell me in a PM!

By the way, if you ARE offended by the interpretation of the scientists of the Augment project, please don't be. It IS a satire, and it is only my interpretation of what would happen if genetic engineering science runs out of control and out of ethics. Think of it as one of those nice little futuristic dystopian post-apocalyptic societies (i.e. Hunger Games, Maze Runner, and Divergent).

Please excuse grammatical errors.

Please review.

All rights to respective owners.


	11. Chapter 11

Heyo! I have a new chapter! Hooray!

Maybe less T here... I seem to alternate with fluff and angst. And well, I don't know.

* * *

"Michael! Get back here!" Kirk shouted to the little boy, but it evidently fell on deaf ears, because the child did not stop running pell-mell around the room. "Put your pants back on!"

"Gonna have to catch me first, mister Kirk," Michael called back. He leaped nimbly atop the bed while Kirk was still crawling underneath the table.

"This isn't very grown-up Michael!" He reached for the little boy, who immediately dashed away.

"And who EVER said I was THAT?" Michael smiled mischievously and scrambled atop the cabinet.

Kirk shook his head. It was going to be almost impossible to catch the little boy. He had almost unlimited energy, and surprising agility. It was like trying to catch a monkey in its home tree.

Kirk looked back up at Michael, who seemed to be taunting him atop the cabinet.

"Alright, this has gone on long enough." He jumped and grabbed Michael off of his perch. "I've got you! You WILL put you pants back on, Michael John FitzSimmons!"

Michael laughed uncontrollably as Kirk began to tickle him mercilessly in the sides.

Kirk deftly slipped Michael's trousers back on, then attempted to get the boy (still laughing, by the way) to stand up. Michael promptly dropped again, and continued to laugh.

"So, Michael," Kirk said as he ruffled the boy's hair. "How old are you supposed to be now?"

"Oh, I don't know." The little one continued to giggle. "Five or six maybe." He sat up stock-straight and his face returned to somber. "Remember these moments. They won't last long; I'll be a grownup in a couple of months." He looked at Kirk intently.

"Hm. Well, I guess you're right. And you know, you have grown a lot since you were first here. And you've only been here for a week."

Michael draped his arms around Kirk's neck in a hug and set his head down on the man's shoulder. "That's because I age a month for every day I'm here. I'm probably growing right now."

"And that's probably why doctor McCoy wants to see you every two weeks or so." Kirk stood up, still holding Michael.

The little boy sighed. "Yeah. I guess so."

Kirk set him down on the table, and ordered two glasses of milk from the replicator.

"Replicator food tastes funny," Michael mused as Kirk handed him the glass.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah. It doesn't taste the same as regular, grown food. Normal food is much better. It has more flavor to it."

"Honestly, I never really noticed a difference."

"Hm. Well, maybe it's just me," he smiled. "I used to spend a lot of time in the farms. I got to meet a cow once, and milk her, too!"

"I've never officially met a cow before. And I don't think I've ever milked one, either."

"The milk from our cows tasted the best. We just chilled the raw milk. It was much better than this replicator stuff." He looked down at the glass. "Everything we ate was homegrown. It just felt better."

"Michael, I... Uhh... I need to talk to you about something. It's really important, so I need you to pay attention."

Michael looked him over. "Okay..."

"I learned from your teacher that you don't get along with the other children in your class."

"I don't. They're mean and cruel and silly. They don't like me."

"She- your teacher- said that you got into a fight with one of the older boys today."

"And?"

"She said that she'd only stepped away for a minute or two, and that when she got back, you were throttling a boy twice your own size."

Michael looked down, ashamedly. "I didn't start it. He did."

"Well, what happened?"

"The teacher stepped out, and there was this big boy who was picking on this little blonde girl with pigtails. He took her doll and he and his friends were playing keep-it-away. She tried to get it back, and they knocked her over. I went over and took it from them, and gave it back to her. And then he hit me."

"He hit you?"

"Yep. Right in the eye. It knocked me over. The bruise had gone by the time you came to pick me up."

"You didn't tell the teacher?"

"I didn't know where she was."

"And then you took matters into your own hands, and that's how she found you."

"Basically, yeah. It wasn't my fault. They shouldn't have taken her doll. I showed them, and they wouldn't dare to do it again."

Kirk shook his head. "Michael, that's not good! You aren't supposed to spend your school time fighting, even if it is to protect little girls in pigtails! Next time, you tell the teacher. You don't start punching."

"But they were hurting her! She was crying. I couldn't let it happen. She needed help. Nobody else wanted to help her."

"Still, the next time, you tell the teacher first."

"But why do I have this, then?" The little boy pulled up his sleeve, to reveal the green patch, only slightly visible now, on his arm. "If I'm stronger and faster and better than normal people, shouldn't I use it to help those who can't make it on their own?"

Kirk stared at Michael.

"You know, that's a good point. We do use our strength to help others. But you're still just a little boy. When you get older, then you can put your idea to action."

"I want to help people now, though."

"You can do that by not taking matters into your own hands, and calling on an authority, like a teacher, if bad things happen."

"I guess." Michael looked down at the floor.

Kirk smiled. "Good. Now that we've got that all cleared up, we can get you ready for b-"

He never finished his statement. The words were drowned out by the sound of explosions. The ship shuddered heavily at the impact.

Michael screamed and dove beneath the table as only one who was well accustomed to the practice could.

The red alert sirens began to sound.

"Sir! It looks like a warship, but unmarked- possibly mercenaries or pirates!" Sulu's voice rang out on the comm.

"I'll be right there, just a sec!"

He peered under the table, where Michael was huddled close to the floor. The little boy didn't quite seem altogether there, as his eyes betrayed a look of deep and reminiscent fear. Likely from previous experiences.

"Mike! I've got to go to the Bridge! When this is all over I'll come back for you!" He was forced to yell over the sound of explosions, the rocking of the ship, and another unnatural wail that emanated from Michael's voice box.

Kirk was thrown against the wall on his way out.

"Sir! We need you up here! There's more than one!"

"I'm trying, Sulu!" Another explosion rocked the ship. "It isn't easy!"

* * *

I love a good cliffhanger, don't you?

Please review.

Please excuse errors.

All rights to respective owners.


	12. Chapter 12

Hmmm... Well. I have yet another chapter. I've actually been surprisingly productive this month. I mean- four various chapters in a single month? MIND BLOWN.

Anyways. We have another chapter, and all from the last shall be resolved. Except for... Well... You'll see. Probably. I hope.

* * *

Kirk exited the turbolift. "Status report," he barked.

"Keptin on ze bridge!"

"That doesn't help! Spock, Sulu. What the h-" he was promptly cut off by another explosion that rocked the ship.

"Captain, they seem to be pirates of some sort. This is unexplored space. Unclaimed, that we know of."

Sulu interrupted Spock. "A direct hit to the impulse engines! These guys are too methodical to be pirates!" More explosions impacted the lower decks.

"On the contrary," Sopck argued. "Some pirates are very organized and methodical. It varies according to who happens to be in authority."

One of the panels to Kirk's left went up in a blaze of sparks, right in some poor ensign's face.

"Captain," Uhura called over the screaming man. "The lead ship is hailing us!"

As they carried the moaning operator away, Kirk yelled, "ON SCREEN!"

An image of an armored soldier materialized on the front view screen. It looked like something straight out of the antique video games he played as a child. Except, perhaps, that the armor was completely jet-black from soot and scorch marks, he noticed.

"Et dicendum est ad auctoritatem!"

"I am Captain James Tiberius Kirk, who are you, and why have you attacked us?"

"Quaerere," the armored soldier hissed to someone offscreen.

Sulu looked at his readouts. "Sir, they're using some sort of scan to search through our computer banks. But the technology is something I've never seen before."

Just then, the soldier from the other vessel tapped the side of his helmet, and spoke again.

"Foreign vessel, identify yourself, your affiliations, and your intentions!"

"We are the starship Enterprise, of the Federation. We come in peace, as explorers!"

The other man paused for a few seconds, then spoke again.

"I am Admiral Caelestis. This ship of the heavens, the Courageous, is in my charge."

"Why have you attacked us?"

"You have incurred upon our territory, and it is our charge and duty to defend our borders from any and all intruders who dare enter."

"We... We didn't know that it was your territory! Please for the sake of the crew of this ship, please cease fire!"

The Admiral paused, then replied. "You have five New Universal Standardized minutes to formulate your decision, whether you leave now, or be annihilated." The image disappeared.

"Sir, they seem to be speaking some form of Latin."

"Got it, Spock. What else?"

"It seems as though decks five through seven were compromised during the attack."

"Sir," Sulu commented, "I don't think we can take another barrage like that."

"Jim!" McCoy shouted through the comm, "What's going on up there? We're taking heavy casualties!"

"Check." Kirk turned to Spock. "Do we-" He stopped short, as he suddenly remembered exactly where he'd been before the attack.

"Michael FitzSimmons, report in!" Nothing. "Repeat, Michael FitzSimmons, report!"

 _ **From a different point of view...**_

It was just too _loud_.

It was too loud, and it was too dark in the room after the lights went out.

It reminded him far too much of the air raids before they'd went into the sleepy pods- err... Cryotubes.

He'd been sitting underneath the table, hoping that it would all just be over. The Captain was good at being Captain, so naturally he would make it stop. Michael hoped.

Another set of explosions rocked the ship, and Michael curled up into a ball. It wasn't very dignified, for an Augment, but that really didn't concern him at the moment.

Then he remembered that he WAS an Augment. That if anyone ought to set a good example, it should be him. Because that was his job. His duty.

Michael stood up on wobbly legs and walked to the door. Explosions kept shaking the floor, making it hard to stand, but it didn't really matter.

He walked out the door, and he saw absolute chaos. People were screaming in fear, and running to and fro along the corridors. He calmly strode out into the hall and began to make his way to the Medbay, because that would obviously be where assistance was most needed.

He finally arrived in the Medbay to see people being helped in and set on tables. The staff was rushing to assist the wounded. Mostly broken bones, that he saw. As if to prove him wrong, a whole wave of men from engineering suddenly piled in, many of them with extensive burns.

"Doctor! Over here!"

Michael watched as McCoy hissed a string of profanities in annoyance, and hurried over.

Michael looked around for something he could help with. The smell of smoke mingled with the horrible stench of fear-scent and adrenalin that hung heavy in the air.

His eyebrows scrunched. He quickly ran to the cabinets where he knew they kept wraps, and quickly soaked a cloth with cold water. He returned to the area where they were holding the burn victims, no-one noticed as he aided several people who were laying on the floor, as there was no more bed space.

Michael looked up as he sensed something wrong. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he somehow knew he needed to find out what. Intuition, he had been told, was always important. In the heat of battle, it was intuition that kept you alive.

He left the cool dampened cloth with the man he had been tending to, and walked over to the far wall. There was definitely something off.

He realized what it was, just before he screamed, "Hit the deck!"

There was a blinding flash of light, a wave of immense heat, and then there wasn't anything at all.

 ** _Back on the Bridge..._**

Kirk had ordered an immediate retreat, away from the attacking vessels. The other ships followed them, but it appeared to be just an escort, as the other ships kept a distance, and did not fire on them.

The Federation would obviously want to establish contact with them, although with their present disposition, Kirk sympathized with anyone who was sent on _that_ fool's errand.

Scott called him through the comms. "Jim, do you have any idea how long this is all gonna take to repair? I'm jus' strugglin' ta get you Warp drive right now. If we keep this pace up, the core'll overheat, and there won't be any ship left TO repair!"

"How much time can you give me?"

"Four minutes. Five at most."

"I need at least ten, Scotty."

Kirk heard a exasperated groan from the other line, and then Scott cut him off.

"Well, at least we know how long we have."

Another call came in on the comms. McCoy's voice sounded worriedly around the bridge. There were groans and screams from the wounded in the background.

"Jim! Jim. You need to come down to the docking hangar."

"Why?"

"It's Michael."

Kirk quickly stood and ran to the turbolift. "What happened? Is he gonna be OK?"

"We had to move to the docking hangar- there was an explosion, and the Medbay caught fire. Michael was able to alert everyone, but he was at point-blank range when it happened. He saved a lot of people, Jim, but he's got third degree burns all over, and he took a lot of shrapnel from wall. Even for an Augment, I don't see how he's alive right now."

"I'm on my way."

Kirk arrived at the docking hangar, and he was greeted by a horrible sight. It looked almost like a picture from the hospitals of WW1. There were wounded everywhere- most of them laying on the floor, for want of a bed. Some were sitting on ledges, and others were leaning against the wall. The noise was unbearable. The nurses and doctors were talking, yes, but they could barely be heard over the wails of the injured.

Medical personnel bustled in and out of the shuttles, which Kirk took to mean that they had converted the shuttles into makeshift treatment rooms.

"Doctor McCoy?" Kirk shouted to the room.

"In here, Jim!" Came the reply from the nearest shuttle.

Kirk quickly entered the shuttle, and found McCoy and several other doctors attempting to restrain an injured security officer. The officer was thrashing against them as they tried to work, which obviously hurt him further.

"Come on, now you idiot," McCoy yelled at him. "Behave! We've got to set the broken bones! Or do you want to have us re-break them when they don't heal right?" The officer's eyes widened, and he stayed quiet and motionless for the remainder of the procedure.

Now finished, McCoy looked up to see the captain standing at the entry way.

"How- how bad is it? Michael... is he-"

The doctor's voice was grave. "It doesn't look good." He strode down the boarding ramp, Kirk hot on his heels. "It is capable to kill an Augment, by the way. It's really hard, but they aren't invincible. Their main advantage also happens to be their weakness." He walked over to a control panel that was evidently functioning as a desk. He picked up a vial filled with red fluid. "You bleed them dry, that's the end of it, Jim. Their blood had incredible regenerative properties, but if there's no blood," he solemnly laid the vial gently back down on the table. "They're really just as vulnerable as the rest of us."

Kirk's eyebrows knit together. "I find that hard to believe."

"Believe it, Jim." McCoy turned to look at him. "Their blood is really quite precious. True, it has the regenerative qualities, but it requires so much more time and energy to make it. Every single milliliter they lose is setting them back health-wise an entire week. Even if they do heal almost instantly, they have lost blood. It all balances out, actually."

They began walking towards a different shuttle.

"And Michael? How is he?"

"As I said, not good, Jim." McCoy shook his head. "He isn't healing like an Augment. I honestly wouldn't expect him to. He's just a little kid, after all. The serum isn't a miracle, Jim. It can't do everything." He sighed before continuing. "He isn't even stable yet- treating him is near-impossible." They stopped at the boarding ramp, as the hatch was closed.

"Why is that?"

"Michael's immune to pain relievers."

Kirk grimaced. "That's why you keep the door shut," he whispered.

McCoy silently nodded, and opened the hatch.

Kirk barely had enough time to get inside before McCoy closed it again.

The smell was horrendous. The noise was even worse.

Michael lay writhing on a makeshift table that they had set up in the shuttle. The poor boy was grievously burned- it didn't come as a surprise to Kirk, however, given the circumstances. The captain had to admit- if he were in Michael's state, he's probably be screaming, too. Kirk and McCoy quickly dressed in the Biohazard suits before going though the glass door.

There were several orderlies struggling to hold him down, so that two doctors could work.

"Slow going, doctors?" McCoy asked wryly.

One of them gave McCoy an indignant look before saying, "Yeah. Slow going."

Michael continued to wail. Kirk quickly came to the boy's aid, attempting to calm him down.

"Captain," one of the doctors began. "I wouldn't suggest touching him- he's very... sensitive."

Kirk watched helplessly as Michael arched his back and let out a blood-curdling scream.

"Michael! Focus! Look at me!"

Their eyes met. Kirk had never seen the boy so fearful. And yet- behind the fear seemed to be a trust. A trust in him.

Kirk gently set his hand on the side of Michael's jawline, in a comforting posture. The boy gave a slight smile, and leaned into the touch. The silence (the first, likely, in minutes) did not last long. His eyes glazed over, and he resumed telling the orderlies that he was in pain, but in so many words.

"Jim, where are you going?" McCoy shouted after him as he left the shuttle to the chaos of the docking bay. "Hey!"

"I need to make a call!"

"Well at least take of the suit..." Kirk was already out of earshot. "Oh, fine. Be that way."

 _ **A bit later...**_

 _He knew that feeling. He heard the sounds. He felt- He felt. The cold of the cryosleep was beginning to thaw. He knew what this meant. The darkness of unconsciousness was beginning to fade. The beginning of a whole different kind of nightmare._

Khan sat up, stock straight. The first thing he noticed were the phaser rifles- all pointed at him. Set to kill, most likely.

"Why have you yet disturbed my sleep?" The rifles rose to his face proportionally as he spoke. "Am I really so much of a threat?" This, admittedly, was partially true. After emerging from cryosleep, an Augment would usually be rather disoriented for almost an entire day.

"You have been summoned for a video conference."

Khan snorted in disbelief. "So someone wanted to 'give me a call'?" He swung his legs over the edge of the cryotube. "How long have I been in cryolseep?"

"Less than six months, if you need to know."

Khan gave another snort, met by the priming of phasers. "Not really much of a sentence, then. Is it?"

The man threw a datapad into his lap. "Just answer the call." The armed guards slowly backed away.

Khan looked down, only to find himself staring into the face of none other than James Tiberius Kirk.

Khan smiled at Kirk. "So, you decided to make the same exact mistake that Marcus did. Refuse to leave us in peace. You kidnap my son, you court death."

"Well," came the snarky response from the other line. "we never really have been peaceful, have we?"

Khan blinked, surprised at Kirk's answer.

"After all, we go seeking war. We thrive on the danger. The adrenalin."

"What have you done with Michael? Where is he?" Khan's voice dripped with a deadly venom.

"That's why I called you. There was an accident. Your son saved a lot of people, Mr. FitzSimmons. But he needs you."

Khan thought for a moment. "You would risk everyone on board your ship, just for my son?"

"Is there anything you wouldn't do for family?"

Kirk seemed genuinely concerned for Michael's well-being. It seemed odd. To have your mortal enemy concerned for your son. Of course, it wasn't as if your mortal enemy wasn't technically related to you, either. Kirk broke the silence.

"We will send the station the coordinates for a rendezvous."

Another silence ensued.

Kirk smiled. "For Michael."

Khan smiled- a genuine smile, for once. "For Robin."

* * *

So... We have a lot of angst near-whump. And then we have a lot of fluff that I wasn't even aware I was capable of. Who knew?

 _Sassiebone_ , I **DID** follow your suggestion! (Although I had planned it from the beginning... but anyways.)

Please review.

Please excuse grammatical errors.

All rights to respective owners.


	13. Chapter 13

Hey, hey guys! What's up?

Are you happy with me for doing so much in March?

I am. And yes, that doesn't really count, but... whatever.

* * *

"Is he asleep?"

"Yeah. Finally." _Took us five hyposprays, and that isn't healthy for anyone, but he's asleep_ , McCoy added silently.

"How long do you think it will last?"

"I don't know. I mean, we hit him with that stuff pretty hard. But I don't think it will last long. He didn't respond in the slightest after the first four. Four. Jim, three in one sitting is enough to kill a grown man! And we had to give him five!"

"So I bet you're keeping close tabs on him."

McCoy looked at Kirk as if he'd grown a second head. "That is a brazen understatement, Jim."

Kirk looked at the little child peacefully sleeping in the bed behind the glass. He looked so small, even with the sheets pulled back so as to avoid contact. He didn't even have a hospital gown- only a loincloth- again, to avoid agitating the sensitive skin.

"The good thing," McCoy added, "Is that now we can administer the medication without him fighting us."

As if on cue, a doctor entered the room. He applied some kind of lotion to the more affected areas, and quickly left.

"He just looks so small in that bed. And he looks so... Hurt." Kirk sighed wistfully.

"Maybe you should go and take care of some other business on the ship, to keep your mind off of it."

"Most of it is all done. All we have now is to wait."

"The engines? We haven't been able to move for hours."

"Scotty said it would take it awhile. It will be at least another day to get the warp drive up. Chekov and Sulu are struggling to get Navigation back up. Spock and Uhura- I have no idea where they are. Khan is coming-"

"And meanwhile, Aunt Martha, having taken a tramp through the woods, is lying in a ditch at the edge of town," McCoy said wryly.

Kirk gave him an exasperated look.

"Speaking of which," McCoy said. "When is Khan coming here?"

"He sounded like he was leaving right away."

"Took us about a week to get here- we spent a whole week at the station getting Mike all settled..."

"But we started off at a leisurely pace of warp three. He's probably pushing warp 8 or 9."

"In a shuttle?"

Kirk shrugged. "I would, if it was my son."

McCoy nodded. "Good point."

 ** _Several Days Later..._**

McCoy sat down in his chair, exhausted. They had finally gotten all of the patients to sleep at the same time. Even Michael was asleep (despite the fitful nature of the child's dozing). It was nice. McCoy was almost tempted to go to his quarters and get forty winks. But he'd promised one of the nurses that he'd watch Michael to give her a break, so there would be no winks for him tonight.

McCoy looked through the glass of the containment area. He was glad to be back in the Medbay. He still didn't expect to have to use the bio-containment room so soon.

Michael's injuries seemed to be healing somewhat. He was able to have a hospital gown, and he didn't need to be checked around the clock, anyhow. There were regular shifts. The lacerations on his arms and legs were still awful-looking, though they were currently bandaged up. He was running a fever of a hundred and two, and had been for the past day or so. But he looked better than before. Sort of.

McCoy sighed deeply. Why did this have to be so difficult? Michael was already something of a super-being. But having him being resistant to analgesics? That was just cruel. When they took readings, it seemed as though the drugs didn't even metabolize. Injections went into the bloodstream, and then his kidneys filtered most of it out. Ingested medicines did no good. Even inhaled drugs just couldn't affect him. Sure, it would be nice if someone was trying to slip him something, but it sure made a doctor's job harder.

Spock entered the room.

"How does Augment child fare, doctor?"

"As well as he possibly can, my pointy eared computer. Considering he doesn't respond to pain meds, and the circumstances of the injury." McCoy stood up, and strode to the observation area. "I don't like the look of some of those lacerations on his arms, though." Spock followed him.

"How so, doctor?"

"Well," McCoy motioned to the boy behind the glass. "Just look at it. They're like caves- broader on the inside than on the outside. Infection breeding; it could be rotting away, and we'd never know it. Our hands are tied. We can't do any surgical procedures or probes, because he doesn't respond to painkillers. He'd be awake, and he'd be able to feel everything. We've got to find something that can knock him out, and keep him that way." McCoy paused. "But with all the damage, and how he's behaving..." He sighed. "I'm concerned."

"Concerned?"

McCoy looked at Spock, and the gaze held for several moments.

"Out. Get out. My ward, my rules. And one of my rules is that we care for anyone who is hurt. Anyone."

"You misunderstand my intent-"

"And you misunderstand what 'get out' means. With all due respect, Commander, leave. Now."

Spock's eyebrow raised, and he turned on his heel and strode out the door.

"I really, really don't want to have to do anything that would get me in trouble with his dad," McCoy added softly.

Behind the glass, Michael suddenly sat up stock-straight and let out a horrified screech, and his heart rate and blood pressure readings went through the roof.

McCoy was in the room within thirty seconds.

He took a more detailed scan.

"Where does it hurt, kid?"

"My leg!" Michael sobbed.

"Which one?"

"L-left. M-my left leg!"

McCoy gritted his teeth. "Well, now- something new has been added," he hissed under his breath.

"Where exactly does it hurt- can you say?"

Michael looked up at him, heartbroken. "It... It doesn't hurt. I... I... I can't feel it."

McCoy tore off the light blanket that had been covering the boy's lower half. He deftly pulled the bandages away. It was a horrible sight to see. The odor was equally horrendous.

"Who did this?" He yelled to the scanty staff that had stayed for the night. "Get the _idiot_ who did these packs, and tell him that his privileges as a medical practitioner on the Enterprise are hereafter revoked!"

"What is it, Doctor?" A nurse called to him.

McCoy was already donning his surgical wear.

She started to step in, then caught a whiff of the air in the room. Her eyes widened. "Oh. Right away, sir."

"Kirk!" McCoy shouted through the comm.

"What is it? I'm- err... I _was_ sleeping."

"Please tell me that Khan is coming soon!"

There was a yawn heard through the line. "He's about a day away still. Why?"

"I think you need to get down here for this."

* * *

I did not plan this. It just came out that way. I entertained an idea, and it stuck. Do you hate me?

Please review.

Please excuse errors.

All rights to respective owners.


	14. Chapter 14

Heyo! I'm sorry that this took so long. There are so many ideas floating around in my head, and I never really have the capability to focus on multiple ones at the same time.

We have some definitive hurt/comfort closing in at Five O'clock... INCOMING!

* * *

McCoy stared down at the floor. He couldn't bring himself to look up. To see Michael's slight frame nestled in the comparatively enormous biobed. Why couldn't he? He had dealt with such procedures before... it shouldn't have mattered. Except that it did.

The boy tightened his extremely weak grip on McCoy's hand. McCoy closed his eyes, and gritted his teeth.

He couldn't bring himself to look up to see...the work. His own work. His own, terrible, horrible work.

"Doctor McCoy?" Michael asked in a whisper.

McCoy turned and knelt by the biobed, purposefully avoiding eyeing Michael's lower half.

"What is it, Sport?" He smiled reassuringly.

The boy let out a tired, shaky sigh. "What... happened?"

McCoy bit his lip. He was torn between telling Michael the truth, and avoiding sending the boy into a panic attack.

"We... made you go to sleep for a little while so that we could... do a medical procedure on... uh... on your leg," McCoy paused as his voice became thick with emotion. "But- but it's all going to be OK. Your papa's going to be here in just a little while."

Michael still did not open his eyes, but he smiled.

"Right now, Michael, I need you to get some rest. You want to be able to see your dad when he gets here, right?"

Michael's countenance changed into a more neutral expression. "I... _am_ tired..."

McCoy smiled. "Well, that's OK, Sport. Just take a couple winks, yeah?"

Michael gave a little nod. "OK. Just... a few..." His head dipped to the side as he slipped into sleep.

McCoy walked silently out of the Bio-containment room. He put up the suit, and then strode out into the main Medbay.

Kirk was waiting nervously at his desk.

"How... how is he? He- he's gonna make it, right? You caught it in time?"

"I'd say he's pretty well off. Considering."

Kirk's eyebrows knit together.

McCoy continued. "I can't even believe that he slept though the whole thing. But we hit him pretty hard with that stuff, and I guess..." McCoy trailed off.

Kirk put his head in his hands. "No one his age should ever have to deal with that," his muffled voice said. "Never. No exceptions."

McCoy put his hand on Kirk's shoulder. "Like I told Michael. It's all gonna be OK."

"I'm not so easily convinced as he is." Kirk mentioned to the glass of the observation deck. "You catch whoever did that to him?"

"Yep." McCoy's voice became exceedingly grim. "Those nutcases are in the Brig now."

Kirk looked at McCoy from the corner of his eye. "The Brig? You know- that's where I was thinking of keeping Khan, and if he finds out what they did to his son..."

"Exactly," McCoy whispered darkly. "I'm counting on it."

Kirk sighed again. Suddenly, a voice came over the comm.

"Captain, Khan has arrived."

"Right." Kirk stood up. "That's my call. I'll see you later."

He walked quickly out of the Medbay.

It had been quite a day. Quite a day indeed. An entire 27 hour period between when McCoy woke him up to now.

Kirk couldn't help but think of Michael as his own boy.

Michael hadn't responded to the anesthesia at first (as could only be expected), and it took them an hour just to finally get him under. And then everything just sort of went downhill from there.

McCoy had been desperate to keep the child's body at least somewhat intact. But it was hopeless from the start- everyone had the gut feeling. The infection had settled so deep... and Kirk had watched as McCoy had taken slices of grey, vile-looking flesh out of his boy. Slice after slice. Until everyone knew all-too-well that there was no avoiding it.

And all because an inter had done shoddy work with a bandage.

Because a nurse had neglected rounds.

Because a doctor had thought that Michael would be perfectly fine, because of bigotry.

Kirk was sure that McCoy blamed himself. Almost positive. What had happened- it was by no means his fault. There was carelessness, but it wasn't HIS carelessness. Of course not. McCoy still blamed himself, though.

Kirk just wished that Khan might have come a little bit later. Or maybe a little bit sooner. But now?

He sighed. Maybe it was just because he didn't want to tell Khan- not that the super powerful Augment wouldn't find out soon enough, but still. To hear it from him, and then see that empty _empty_ space where...

No. He couldn't think about that. Kirk gritted his teeth, and continued down the hallway.

 ** _A bit later..._**

Khan awaited further docking instructions. The Enterprise crew were obviously taking their precious time to actually get him on board. Of course, knowing his previous record, that was mildly understandable.

Khan sighed. Every moment that he was away from Michael was one more moment that the doctors could botch his child's treatment. He had at least some confidence in their Chief Medical Officer... McCoy, was it?

As much as Khan detested humans, McCoy was actually a decent fellow. Not friendly, by definition, but a good man all the same.

The Enterprise finally transmitted the docking coordinates, and Khan maneuvered the shuttle into the hangar. He quickly slung his pack over his shoulder, and exited down the ramp. He did not expect what he saw.

There was blood _everywhere_. It was smeared on the consoles and the walls, and ensigns were still scrubbing puddles of it away. The odor was horrendous.

"Well, well, well. What happened here?" Khan's gaze rested on a particular yeoman who was eying him in utter terror. "I could only suspect that you were boarded... but there are no phaser markings on the walls."

"Khan." He turned to see Kirk walking up to him from behind.

"Captain- Have I come at an inopportune time?" Khan gave a slight smirk. "It seems that you did not give me all the details concerning my visit. You have obviously been in-" He lifted his boot, and a viscous red substance dripped off of it. "Quite a tussle recently."

Kirk shrugged. "Well, I won't exactly argue with that. Our Medbay was sort of... blown up. We had to use the hangar to treat all the wounded."

"Speaking of wounded-"

"Listen... maybe you'll want to get settled first."

"Anything I need I can carry on my back. Or get from your replicators. I want to see Michael."

"He's resting right now. He's had a long day." Kirk entered the Turbolift, motioning for Khan to follow.

"Undoubtedly," Khan mused as the lift started. There was a long pause before he added, "Michael's body doesn't respond quite as well to artificial analgesics."

Kirk turned to face him. "You know about that?"

Khan rolled his eyes. "Of course I do. He's my _son_." Khan paused. "He had to deal with migraines his whole life. Nothing too serious, but still uncomfortable. We learned rather quickly that we couldn't use any medications, because they just won't metabolize. We had to use a type of leaf- Kratom- to treat the pain."

"Kratom? Never heard of that."

"You'll see its effects soon enough. I've brought some with me- just in case. I'm glad I did." They entered the Medbay.

"Admittedly, I was planning to get you settled in the Brig first."

"So I'm not _quite_ a guest, then. Am I?"

"I guess not... You can see Michael from the observation deck over the Bio-containment unit."

Khan said something that sounded remarkably close to a 'Thank you' as he strode to the observation deck.

McCoy came up behind Kirk and asked, "You did tell him what happened, yes?"

They both looked up when they heard Khan gasp in shock at the sight of his son.

"I'll take that as a 'No'." McCoy sighed, and walked back to his desk.

Kirk watched from a distance as a visible shudder wracked the Augment's body.

"I really didn't want you to have to know... until later." He walked up to Khan, who was leaning against the glass.

"What happened to him?" A single tear slid down Khan's cheek. "How- how did it happen?"

"There was an explosion. He warned the staff just before it went off. But he was caught in the blast. He looks a lot better now than when he first was admitted." Kirk sighed as Khan looked at him with a hopeless expression. "But I guess that's not what you're asking about.

Khan silently shook his head.

"One of the shrapnel wounds in his left leg got infected. McCoy tried to salvage it, but... there wasn't much he could do."

"So my son goes through life horribly maimed."

"He saved a lot of people."

Khan sighed and turned away from the glass.

"Surely you won't let something like that break your love for your son!"

Khan snorted incredulously. "Of course I still love my son." He looked back over his shoulder. "But I have no idea how to raise a disabled child."

Kirk motioned to the boy behind the glass. "Well, I don't think you'll have to worry about much. He's aging rapidly thanks to Metamorphosis, so..."

"The problem is that I don't know how this injury will affect the serum. It will at the least interrupt the growth stages. It might nullify the serum completely. Who knows?"

"Well, we just tackle what comes at us head-on."

Khan's attention was suddenly on the occupant of the biobed. Michael's eyes had briefly fluttered open, and then they closed again.

"Doctor McCoy? Are you here?" The boy had called weakly.

Kirk watched as Khan visibly bit his lip and then walked to the entrance of the bio-containment room to intercept McCoy.

"I- I think I want to take care of this one, doctor. If that's alright with you."

McCoy nodded solemnly. "I've done enough... And I'm really sorry about what happened."

Khan blinked slowly. "Thank you... It... It means a lot to hear you say that," he mumbled almost unintelligibly.

Kirk watched briefly as Khan entered the Bio-containment room, and then he decided that he had much more Captain-y things to be doing.

...

Khan just stood there staring for several moments. It was almost too good to be true. After all these years- all these perils. Finally, he could see his son. Alive and... somewhat well.

He didn't realize that he was walking towards the bed until he was kneeling down at the bedside.

He didn't realize he was crying until the abundance of tears dripped down onto the tiny little hand that he didn't realize he was gripping like life itself.

Michael slowly turned his head to look at him, and his eyes opened to tiny slits. "Daddy?"

Khan couldn't see much though the blur of tears. "Yes, Michael. It's me. It's Daddy. It's all going to be OK, now. I'm here. It's all going to be OK."

Michael smiled. "It's... all... gonna... be OK." His left arm moved absently- right to where there was an empty space where there shouldn't have been one. His hand felt for what wasn't there, and the boy's eyes widened as they filled with tears. "My leg!" He squeaked. "Where is it?"

Khan suddenly couldn't control what he felt was everything suddenly crashing back down upon him. "I'm sorry, Michael- I.. I don't know... the whole story."

"My leg," Micahel sobbed. "It's gone!"

Khan could barely speak. "They- they had to take it to save your life. I don't know why this had to happen- but..."

Micahel reached up and wrapped his arms around his father's neck, disregarding the burns that still stung his arms, and simply cried into his father's shoulder.

Khan reached around and held his son close, and his tears dampened his son's nightgown.

And they stayed that way for a long time.

* * *

Please excuse errors.

All rights to respective owners.


	15. Chapter 15

It's been awhile, I know. I've been super busy with the last few weeks of School. But I'm here now. And I hope I have a good chapter for you.

* * *

Kirk watched as Michael scanned his new surroundings, and talked of minor things with his father. The boy had been moved to a new bed in a different wing, since the burns were now healing quite well. On their own, mind you.

It would have been nice if Khan's blood could have been used in order to boost the healing process, but that wasn't exactly the way things had worked out.

After extensive testing and observation, both Khan and McCoy had come to the conclusion that the Metamorphosis serum would negate the effects of any donated blood. The Metamorphosis would induce Michael's immune system to resist any foreign platelets, possibly endangering him further.

Quite honestly, Michael still wanted to try, as both he and his father had been disappointed that a transfusion was impractical, if not hazardous.

Regarding Michael's leg- it was still gone. From the middle of the Femoral Shaft down, there was just... Nothing. And that was what really nagged Kirk's conscience. That a little boy would have to live without his leg, all because of negligence. He remembered the time that he and McCoy had tag-team berated the culprits, and McCoy had stripped them of their licenses. That was actually kind of fun to watch.

Khan exited Michael's room and strode up to the glass where Kirk was, and stood calmly beside him.

"So," the baritone rumbled. "They're going to measure for a prosthetic tomorrow. Michael's excited, though, I think he's still a bit... How would you say it... Loopy... From the Kratom."

"Hm. You've given up on biological replacements?"

"Too much damage. It would be easier for him to learn to walk with a prosthetic than to have to go through life with a real, though useless, leg."

"It would make him look better in the eyes of his peers."

"What peers?"

Kirk sighed. Yes, he had heard this before. No, Khan was not going to let him go without reminding him.

"What peers?" Khan repeated as he turned to face him. "They're dead. Marcus killed them. What began as one hundred- Forty men, thirty women, and thirty children- was reduced to only Seventy-two. Thirty-Nine men, twenty-nine women, and only four children. They never even woke up- they just... Died. The savages turned off their life support, and that was the end of it. Imagine that- going to a dreamless sleep, and then... Death. Nothing in between. And two children are now orphans. David Jabarin and his twin sister Rebecca."

Kirk's brow furrowed. "I... I didn't know about the orphans."

"They're seven years old- they wanted to come along with their parents to make a colony. And now where will they be? Well, I assume that the parents who lost children will want to care for them. It will be a sad day when all awaken." Khan shook his head, and leaned against the glass. His voice wavered as he mused grimly, "The precious lives of our children. The price I pay for my sins."

"Against who?" Kirk mused to himself.

Khan turned to give Kirk a curious eyebrow.

"I mean- against Marcus? He was... He didn't care about who he harmed to get what he wanted. He just wanted war. Bloodshed. That's no way for anyone to act. Whether an admiral or not. But especially not for an admiral."

"And yet-" Khan interrupted. "He still nearly got what he wanted, didn't he?" Khan strode away to retrieve a clean, wet cloth. He walked back into Michael's room, and Kirk watched as, with inexplicable tenderness, he washed his son's still-exposed arms and chest.

"Daddy- did you get the glass?"

"No, I didn't get the datapad. I think you need to sleep. You need your strength. This injury has put a lot of strain on you."

"But I'm not tired..."

Khan smiled at his son's still-present innocence. "You don't have to be tired to go to sleep. And you need to listen to your father."

Michael looked down and smiled. "Yes, sir."

Khan ran his hand through his son's hair, and began to sing in a rich baritone.

" _Well I've never been a man of many words,_

 _And there's nothing I could say that you haven't heard,_

 _But I'll sing to you 'til the day I die-_

 _The way I'm feeling, I can't keep it inside._

 _I'll sing a sweet serenade whenever you're feeling sad,_

 _And a lullaby each night before you go to bed._

 _I'll sing to you for the rest of your life-_

 _The way I'm feeling, I can't keep it inside,_

 _No I can't keep it inside."_

By the time Khan had finished, Michael was long asleep.

Khan stood and exited the room.

Kirk grinned at him and followed him- as escort back to the brig.

After awhile, Khan noticed the awkward silence in the turbolift.

"What?"

"Where did you learn to sing?"

"If your infant son was trying to sleep, would you not serenade him to sleep?"

Kirk merely blinked.

Khan tipped his head back and laughed. "You forget. Augments in reality are quite a bit different than you think. You probably think of us as cruel, sadistic subjugators."

"The thought had crossed my mind."

"Would it surprise you to learn that that song has been in my family for about four generations? We're not all hack-and-slash, as you would put it. We have families. And the family unit operates no differently for us-" he smirked. "Except, perhaps, that our children are better trained."

Kirk allowed a second silence to overtake the turbolift. Then, he spoke again. "Do you think that Michael will ever- you know. Become accustomed to a prosthetic?"

"My son has a lot of optimism. And he also has a lot of drive- when he sets his mind to something, he will accomplish it. He's already talking about how he'll be the fastest runner on the whole ship."

"How old is he supposed to be, by the way? I mean- I know that the Metamorphosis might have been screwed up because of this whole situation, but-"

The turbolift arrived at the brig, and they exited. "He might- might... be close to seven. It's difficult to tell."

"Will he have your... superpowers?"

Khan shook his head. "I don't really know for sure. The Metamorphosis might allow him full capabilities, or it might not. That's the worst part of it, I think. Not knowing."

"Well, we're here. Home sweet-"

"Jail cell."

The captain laughed, unaware that Khan's brow had briefly furrowed, before his expression became completely neutral.

"That wasn't what I was going to say, but, I guess it works too. I'll see you later..." Kirk suddenly noticed that Khan had become very glassy-eyed. "Khan? William."

All the sudden, Kirk began to realize that Khan was entirely rigid, and his teeth were tightly clenched. His hands were opening and closing methodically, but the action seemed to not serve any purpose whatsoever.

Kirk suddenly remembered what Michael had told him, not two months ago.

He slammed a button on a nearby panel. "Brig to Doctor McCoy!"

"What is it, Jim?"

"Khan's gone into some sort of trance- I think he's having a seizure."

"What's going on?"

"His teeth are gritted, and he's really still. What do I do?"

"Alright, these don't usually last long, So stay calm... Firstly, you want to avoid hurting him, or him getting hurt. Can you help him sit or lay down? Away from anything he could hurt himself on, or that he could damage. If he starts thrashing, DO NOT hold him down! I'll be there as soon as I can!"

"Right-" Kirk began talking to Khan again. "William- can you hear me? I'm gonna help you out here, if I can."

Khan's back arched, and Kirk was just quick enough to catch him before he hit the ground.

Security rushed to help, and Kirk was only vaguely aware of warning them off.

It was a strange sight to see- near frightening. Khan, who normally appeared so powerful and domineering, was lying motionless on the floor, muscles tensed, halfway curled into a ball, eyes open and glazed, and saliva dripping out of his mouth.

"Sir, what's going on?"

"Nothing that concerns you directly. Go about your business."

Then suddenly, it was over. Khan relaxed, his mouth closed, and he blinked. Twice.

"William- can you hear me?" Kirk was very tempted to put his hand on Khan's shoulder, then thought better of it.

Khan attempted to sit up, but was unable to do so. "What-"

"You had a seizure, I'm pretty sure. McCoy is on his way now."

Khan began to drag himself across the floor instead. "No... Don't need... Just... Rest." His head dipped to the floor, and he was out.

"You're going to the MedBay whether you want to or not, Sleeping Beauty."

Gentle snoring was the only response.

* * *

As I've said before, awareness is important.

Read back for seizure victim assistance site:

H-T-T-P, single colon, double forward slash, W-W-W, dot, MEDICINENET, dot, COM, forward slash, SCRIPT, forward slash, MAIN, forward slash, ART, dot, ASP, question mark, ARTICLEKEY, equals sign, 1-0-3-1-2, '&' symbol, PAGE, equals sign, 2

(!I really hate the censoring on this site!)

Anyways. I hope this was a satisfactory chapter.


	16. Chapter 16

Hi, guys! Back again! Sorry for the long wait- I've been involved in a lot of RP recently. But I'm here now, so I hope this will be good.

* * *

Khan awoke to find himself in the Medbay. McCoy was standing near the bedside, typing on a datapad. McCoy noticed that Khan was awake, and walked over to his cot.

"Well, Rip Van Winkle. What do you say? How are you feeling?"

Khan sat up, surprised to find that for once he was not lightheaded after a post-seizure sleep. "Mmm... still a bit... groggy." He made a face, and looked around. "What time is it?"

"You slept the remainder of yesterday after your seizure, and right now it's...six. I'd guess about twelve hours, give or take, depending on how much you were awake last night."

Khan nodded. "Alright... am I free to go?"

McCoy's brow furrowed. "Well, now. That depends. Do you have some sort of medication that you can take?"

Khan nodded again. "I do- but everything has all happened so fast... I believe that I've neglected it since I awoke from cryosleep last. But I do have it with me."

McCoy shrugged, and walked over to Khan, making a gesture to help him up. "Well, at this point there's not much that can be done... Just be a little more careful, hmm?"

Khan took the hand offered to him, and stood, turning to the door. "I suppose I'll have to be."

...

Khan sat down at the small table in his cell. There was provided to him an actual pencil, and several sheets of paper. He smiled. He always liked paper more than a datapad. Albeit archaic, it seemed to be more classical.

He picked up the pencil, and began to write. Suddenly, something occurred to him. Today was the day that the measurements would be taken for a prosthetic. He quickly stood, and, grabbing a datapad, made his way back to the medbay.

He burst in the door, to find Michael awake, and leaning on a crutch at the sink.

"Michael, sorry- I... I didn't forget. There was... Something that came up."

The boy didn't turn to face him, merely continued at his task. "They told me you had a seizure."

Khan sighed. "I did. I guess..." he walked slowly over to Michael, kneeling down in front of his son. "I forgot to take my medicine."

Michael shook his head, and wrapped his arms gently around his father's neck, tears beginning to form at the corners of his eyes. "You can't do that, Daddy! You make us so worried!" He pulled back slightly, leaning on the crutch. "I woke up in the middle of the night and I saw you. I stayed with you while you were sleeping."

Khan was about to say something, but he was promptly interrupted by someone entering the room.

It was a lady- a pretty brunette with green eyes. She was clad in the standard hospital attire, and she bore some sort of cylindrical device, and a clipboard... So some other people liked tradition, too...

"Good morning! Sleep well?"

And just like that, Michael was back to his cheery self, and hobbling back to the cot. "Yeah! You?"

"Very well, thank you, sir." She gave a mock bow, and laughed with him.

Khan gave a slight smirk at the sight. Michael was laughing. It sounded like the call of spring after a harsh winter, or returning from a long journey...it... It was beautiful. But then- what was he saying? Michael was beautiful. His baby boy. It always gave him a warm feeling inside. Enough to thaw the cold cruelty of a cryofreeze by far. Michael was his son. His son.

Khan felt tears welling in his eyes. Maybe there could be redemption... Maybe... The joys and wonder of fatherhood were being stifled... By the savagery. He wasn't a soldier. Not really. Not at heart.

His thoughts were interrupted by talking.

"So, do you think that you're ready to get this all measured out for a prosthetic?"

Michael nodded eagerly.

"Maybe I can be the peg-legged pirate when I get to meet other kids on board," he joked.

The nurse smiled. "Well, we're a little more high-tech now than peg-legs. It will look almost like a normal leg, and it will act like one, too." She set the cylinder into a ring, and fitted it over the amputation area. "Now, this might feel a little odd, but it's just a scanner, OK?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Michael squirmed a bit, but there were little other signs of discomfort after that.

The nurse took the ring off, and scribbled some notes on the clipboard. And then, just as spontaneously as she had come, she was gone.

Michael looked back at Khan. "Daddy, sometimes... Sometimes my leg hurts. I mean- I know that it's gone, but I wonder if it does."

"Well, Michael, I think that... It's something that you're going to have to deal with for awhile. They're called phantom pains, and... Well, Sometimes you'll get them, because your body expects your leg to be there, but it isn't, and your body misses it."

Michael looked down. "Kind of like we miss each other, when we're separated."

Khan nodded slowly. "Just like that."

"Where... Where's Mama? Is she still in the sl- I mean... The cryofreeze?"

Khan looked down. "Yes, Michael. I... They wouldn't let her out. I tried, but... There was nothing I could do. I'm sorry."

"You- you don't have to apologize for that. It's their fault." Michael sighed. "I miss her. I miss Jade. I miss everyone... But... Maybe we'll get to see our family again sometime."

"If you realize it or not, you do have family here. On the ship. And it isn't me, either."

Michael tipped his head to the side, and sat up. "I do?"

Khan gave a slight smile. "I was just as shocked as you when I discovered it."

 _To Be Continued..._

* * *

SURPRISE!


	17. Chapter 17

And the conclusion.

* * *

 _He had wanted to find someone. Someone- anyone- who was related to him. He was desperate. In three hundred years the world had changed so much... He wanted SOMETHING that remembered them. But it was easier said than done._

 _Marcus had kept him under lock and key for 25/7. All day, every day, and more. Designing weapons technology, making a bigger and more destructive arsenal for Marcus's whim and fancy. Allegedly for defense of the Federation._

 _But Khan knew very well what Marcus wanted. Men like him- in his profession... Khan had met them before. They wanted nothing more than bloodshed. War. Glory. Khan knew very well that Marcus was all that, and the box of Pop-Tarts._

 _So, whenever Khan got the chance... Whenever someone wasn't looking, he made queries. For his adopted son, Robin. He knew that Robin had a... Girlfriend, as they called it. Perhaps the Kirk-LeClerk line was carried on, somehow._

 _He had found it one day while he was supposed to be working on a new design for a Dreadnought cruiser, what Marcus had decided to call The Vengeance. George Kirk, killed in action saving his crew some twenty-six years earlier. He had a son, James Kirk, who was also in Starfleet._

 _Khan had very much wanted at least a few days leave, so that he could see his... Well, it was some number of 'great' grandchild._

 _But he had to work. The lives of his friends and family depended upon it. And oh, what a price he had paid for his mistakes..._

 _He tried to protect his crew- the remnants, at any rate. He had hidden them in the torpedoes, and sent them off... But as he would later confess on the Enterprise, Marcus discovered his plan, and Khan was forced to go underground on his own._

 _After the bombing of the Kelvin Memorial Archive, Khan had firmly believed that he would never meet his last living relative. After all, as a fugitive, there was little chance that he would ever be allowed to roam free again. But during the attack on Marcus's precious Starfleet council, Khan had been stunned to see the face from the computer search. The boy had managed to disable Khan's jumpship, and their eyes had met briefly before Khan had transported away._

 _He had time to think during his time on Quo'nos, the Klingon homeworld. But of course, not for long. Starfleet had pursued him even there. He was threatened by a Captain Hikaru Sulu, with long-range torpedoes. If he knew Marcus, and unfortunately he_ did _, those were likely the very same torpedoes housing his long-lost crew._

 _So, there were definite reasons why Khan had defended the Starfleet landing party. He had to get aboard the ship- that was the only way he could recover his crew. And... Well, halfway through the fight, he recognized a face. That of James Tiberius Kirk. The Klingons could not be allowed to kill his long-lost relative._

 _Discovering that Kirk was actually a Captain of a ship, well... Khan would admit it. He couldn't have been more proud._

 _He had allowed himself to be captured and revealed the Augments' history, all in hopes that perhaps Kirk would remember his own family, and be sympathetic. But things didn't work out quite as Khan had hoped._

 _When Kirk had questioned him in the brig about the torpedoes, Khan had barely been able to contain his disgust. Kirk was just as all the other humans. He'd forgotten his heritage, and effectively denounced what was his Birthright._

 _So Khan decided that Kirk didn't deserve the Birthright. Albeit that Robin's memory was revered and respected, and he was the elder son, he was adopted. And Robin's heir had forgotten the nobility of his own blood._

 _Perhaps eventually Kirk would realize his blood right, and return to the Augments as a prince. His family line had seemingly neglected their duty to be the Princes of the Augments until the Khan returned... But perhaps, when Michael was the newly christened Khan, the line of Princes would be reinstated._

 ** _In the present..._**

"So, you see, Michael. You do have family here."

Michael's brow furrowed. "I don't see why he would ever forget us. We're family!"

Khan shook his head. "Yes, I know. But unfortunately humans tend to have very selective memories. They remember the injustices, nothing more. Of course, no human is immune. Not even genetically enhanced ones."

Michael hopped off of the cot, leaning heavily on his crutch. "But how could Robin ever have allowed things like that to happen? He would have remembered!"

Khan followed Michael to the footlocker, and helped his son put on normal clothing, instead of the hospital gown. "It doesn't take long to forget, Michael. A lot can happen in three hundred years."

Michael looked down. "I guess so. But... But maybe he'll come back, right? When we're all together again! We can be a family... Even if Robin is gone... Captain Kirk would take his place!"

Khan smiled, as Michael began leaning on him, instead of the crutch, for support. He ruffled his son's dark hair. "I hope so, too."

They were interrupted by the sound of a door opening. And in walked... Of all people. Carol Marcus.

Khan was trying very hard to suppress a growl as she walked into the room. It wasn't her fault that she was the daughter of Alexander Marcus. Still. It irked him.

"Miss Carol!" Michael quickly repositioned the crutch, and hobbled over to greet her.

"Hi, there Michael! I'm sorry I haven't been able to visit you, there are so many things to do... I guess I've been busier than I thought."

"It's alright," Michael reassure her. "I've had Daddy to keep me company!" He paused and his brow furrowed as he looked back over his shoulder to his father.. "Have you met Daddy yet, Miss Carol?"

Khan gave a tired smile as Carol's brow took its turn to furrow when she replied "Yes. Yes, we've met."

"Is... Did you leg turn out alright?"

Carol did a slight tap dance on the deck. "No worse for wear, I suppose. Doctor McCoy was able to fix it fairly well."

"That's good... I was afraid that it would have permanent effects."

Carol shook her head slightly. "I'm still a little sore at you... Although your son seems to have taken a liking to me."

"Well," Khan said as Michael returned to him, leaning against his side for support. "Michael's a pretty good judge of character, I'd say."

Carol smiled, seeing the two of them together... Me and mini-Me, it looked like. "I only came here to see how Michael was doing.. And to see if he wanted... This?" She pulled out a very brown, very adorable teddy bear from behind her back.

She walked to Michael, and knelt down to give it to him.

"He's beautiful! Thank you."

Carol nodded, and stood. "I just figured you'd want some company during your stay." At that moment, a call came through the intercom for her, and she gave her apogogies before quickly leaving the MedBay.

Michael sat back down on the cot, and held his new stuffed bear. "Miss Carol is really nice, isn't she, Daddy?"

Khan nodded slightly. "Yes, Michael." He smiled as he thought of the kindness that she had bestowed upon his son, even when he himself had caused great pain to her. And if she of all people could show such mercy... Maybe... Just maybe things were different now. "Yes she is."

* * *

Hi, there!

So, the concept for Michael's teddy is actually from M*A*S*H, and it's Radar's Teddy Bear. And the bear actually is quite adorable. Well-loved, but still adorable.

Please review.

All rights to respective owners.


	18. Chapter 18

Hi there. I apologize for how long this particular chapter has taken. I've been busy, and distraught. And busy. And distraught again.

Distraught over what, you might ask? I do believe you'll see soon enough.

* * *

"There we are. Almost as good as new." Khan aided his son in mounting the prosthetic on the connection already attached to the boy's leg.

Michael looked down at the new leg. "It feels funny. Almost like it did before, but not quite.

The curly haired fellow next to them nodded. "Well, we have made wery... Long leaps, you might say, in cybernetic implants." He smiled. "Zis new wersion runs fully on brain signals, meaning zat you can actually move it like you would a normal, healthy leg."

Michael tipped his head. "I don't mean to be rude... But where are you from? You don't sound... American like most of the rest of the crew.."

The young man smiled broadly. "From Russia. Pavel Andreievich Chekov, at your service."

Michael nodded. "Oh, I see. Is it a nice place to be from?"

"Oh, yes! Wery nice! It is a beautiful place... Of course, it can become quite cold."

Michael tipped his head.

"But ze scenery is amazing. Ze cityscapes are absolutely stunning."

"It sounds like it was a good place to grow up."

"Of course! And especially for someone interested in space exploration, as I am. You know zat Russia was ze wery first country to send a man into space?"

Michael nodded eagerly. "And they sent the first living being into space, and they ran the program that launched Sputnik."

Chekov sighed. "Of course, ze Americans would not be beaten for long. Zey went to ze moon first."

Michael nodded as Chekov continued, but finally decided to try the new leg. He edged off the chair, and used the support rod on the wall to balance. He tipped his head slightly. "It feels funny."

Chekov simply nodded. "It will for awhile. But you will likely become accustomed to it." He knelt down, and took a reading on the tricorder. "All systems seem to be functioning normally... Weight distribution is a bit off... but zat will come naturally later."

Khan stood, and held out his hand. "Do you want to try to walk?"

Michael nodded slightly, and took his father's hand.

The servos in the leg made a gentle ' _whirrr_ ' as Michael attempted to take a step.

"It feels like I'm wearing a big boot." Michael mused.

Chekov nodded. "Zat is actually wery good. Ze sensation aspect must be working... Now, you should probably lay down for ze next part."

Khan lifted Michael up and carried him bridal-style over to the cot in the room.

Just then, McCoy popped his head in the doorway. "Everything going alright here? Is the leg working?"

"I believe so, sir. We still have a few tests to run."

McCoy shrugged. "OK. Once Michael's done with that, I've filled out the paperwork, so he's free to go back to his quarters."

Khan nodded. "Thank you, Doctor. It is much appreciated, I assure you."

Chekov took another reading. "Alright, I want you to look to your right, so I can test sensation."

Michael quickly did as he was told. "How long will it take to get used to this?"

"Well," Chekov mused. "It might take a wery long time, or it might not."

Michael blinked. "Did you poke me?"

"Yes!" Chekhov said excitedly. "Can you say where?"

"Not really. Someplace in the back?"

Chekov's face changed. "Well, I suppose zat we cannot expect instantaneous results, now can we? At any rate, ze leg actually interfacing with his touch sensing is an accomplishment. You may go now."

Michael nodded, and swung his legs back over the edge of the cot.

Chekov handed him his crutch. "You will likely eventually be able to balance with or without ze prosthetic, but until zen, take ze crutch."

Khan smiled and gave a slight nod. "Thank you, you don't know how much this means to us." He looked to Michael, who was walking in circles. He turned back to Chekov. "To all of the Augments. I believe that this is a small step to... To friendship. It will not go unrewarded, I assure you."

Chekov tipped his head slightly. "Will all due respect, Khan, forging a lasting peace would be reward enough."

Khan gave a firm nod. "Spoken like a true leader." He turned around to see Michael making off with the crutch, and the backpack. "I do believe I should keep tabs on my son... I suppose that I shall bid you hasty adieu." He jogged out, and Chekov heard a, 'Michael, wait!' soon afterward.

Chekov shook his head, smiling.

His comm beeped, and he sighed. Pleasant duties were over. Time to get back to the bridge. He was halfway there, when he suddenly felt... Edgy. As if something important we're going to happen. It was just a gut feeling. Maybe he was just nervous.

 _ **Elsewhere...**_

 _The first thing she knew was... Warmth. Warmth. Something she hadn't felt in... It could have been decades or centuries, or even millennia._

 _Perhaps that is another, more intriguing aspect of the Cryofreeze. One is truly frozen in time. Unable to sense change, seemingly disconnected from the Universe. Frozen in time. From the moment that the frost collected on her eyebrows- the last exhale had pressed tiny ice crystals onto the glass, and she was aware of little until... The warmth._

 _Her heart broke free of its metabolic cage. A beat._

 _Her lungs expanded with all the capability that they had. A breath._

 _An exhale._

 _And another breath._

 _The glass panel and the top of the tube gave way with a great hiss of steam and other gases._

 _She slowly rose to a sitting position. Her long, deep brown hair was still as silky as the moment she had entered the cryotube. The silvery robe that she wore shone as the moon in the face of the shadows._

 _Her eyes opened to reveal irises the color of cut emeralds. They seemed to fluoresce as stars, even in the low light._

 _She began to speak. The voice that had not been heard in three hundred years was as clear as it was even before. To the ears of those surrounding her, the voice was as wonderful music, heralding their queen's return. "William, my beloved, the wait is soon over."_

* * *

Short- I am fully aware. But I hope that the last bit gives you enough to think a bit about.

By the way, the concept of the bionic limb is actually becoming a reality. I've looked it up, and this advance isn't actually all that far fetched. I think that the technology will be widespread in... Ten to twenty years, if even that. But back in the day, when Star Trek was first created, the idea was a huge stretch, so I'm basing this off of that.

Please review.

All rights to respective owners.


	19. Chapter 19

Hi, all. Long time? School, and more school, and- wait, did I mention _school_? A lot of work to keep up with what I'm supposed to be doing, and that is inconvenient. But... Yeah... I just hope this one will be worth your while.

* * *

Michael didn't care what the Captain said. The children were stupid and cruel and silly. They all were.

He held his side attempting to lessen the pain in his side as he walked down the corridor. Sure, he was supposed to be in school (the Enterprise's version of it)... But he had received a brutal beating not ten minutes after he had stepped into the classroom.

 _"Hey," one of them had called. "Look who it is!"_

 _Another one snorted. "The little Dictator's son, back from the hospital after he tried to be a hero."_

A tear slid down Michael's cheek.

 _"See, kid." The tall boy had put his arm around Michael, slapping his back, and knocking the air out of him. "Now you're really a freak, and you've got all those scars to prove it." He had pointed to the pale white patch where the blaze had literally caught the young Augment's face on fire. "I'll bet that Lacy Everett doesn't even want to_ look _at you now."_

 _"Yeah," laughed another one. "You wanted to be a hero, but look at you. What do you have to show for it? Nothing but a missing limb- Ha!" And the boy had kicked Michael's good leg out from under him._

 _The mechanical leg had been unable to compensate quickly enough, and Michael crashed painfully to the floor._

 _His classmates proceeded to deal blows to his torso, limbs, and head. Of course, it wasn't as if they were trained fighters. They were obviously were brawlers, and they didn't care how they hit, as long as they contacted him._

 _That, his father had taught him a day or so ago, was possibly the worst method of fighting. IF you actually wanted to hurt someone, then you needed to actually plant your blows to effective places. His father had showed him various pressure points, as well as important joints to inflict maximum pain with minimum actual damage._

 _Which was why Michael had took them by surprise when his good leg lashed out at his nearest attacker's knee. There was a loud_ POP _, and a scream. The panic, curses, threats, and accusations that followed allowed Michael to get back to his feet, and flee the room._

So that's how Michael had decided to go back to his quarters (Captain Kirk had been kind enough to let Khan out of the Brig).

Michael's brow scrunched. He had given them something to think about, and he could nurse his wounds until he had to go back to school. Still, he saw no reason to go back. All that would happen was he would get in a fight with the other children, and possibly get suspended, or (if Commander Spock had his way) even stuck in the Brig himself.

Michael sighed, which caused his entire side to light aflame again. He groaned. Maybe they were actually right. Lacy was... she was one of... _those_ types. Pretty and pink. Even if he did like her (which he _didn't_ , he assured himself with less confidence than he would have liked), there was no way she would ever like him back. He groaned. And where had his recent chivalry gotten him, anyways?

A hand on his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts. Probably the ship's truancy monitor. And there WERE such things, by the way. They'd force him to go back, and he'd get in big trouble for dislocating a classmate's knee.

"Michael," a familiarly unfamiliar voice said.

It wasn't the voice of the truancy officer, which took him by surprise. Still, he recognized it... it was... He whirled around.

Light brown hair... green eyes... even taller than Khan... Michael's face lit up in recognition. "Uncle John!"

The Augment lieutenant gave a bright laugh, and swept the boy off his feet and into strong arms. "How are you Mike?"

Michael's face darkened only slightly as he answered with a finger pointed at the bruises on his neck, "Could be better."

John Harrison shook his head with a frown. "We'll get that addressed, don't worry. But brighten up- your father wants to see you!" He dashed down the hallway to the turbolift.

Michael had almost forgotten how quickly an Augment could run. It felt good to be around family again. Suddenly something occurred to him. "Uncle John," how... how are you here? You're not supposed to be here at all!"

They had reached the turbolift by this time, and John requested the Bridge. There was a gentle whirr as the turbolift responded.

"Well," his brow furrowed as he attempted to explain. "When your father was woken up, he was somehow able to auto-time your mother to be unfrozen. She woke the rest of us up. Thanks to a short transmission of locale, we made our way here as fast as possible."

Michael nodded, struggling to make this new information register in his mind. His father had woken the rest of the Augments up. It was a genuine family reunion. But if John and the rest of the Augments were here... that meant that...

The turbolift doors slid open with a whoosh, and Michael looked warily around as John carried him. No blast marks on the walls, and no unconscious crewmembers, thank goodness, but there were quite a few of his Augment brethren. They hovered judiciously and with large infantry weapons over the Enterprise crew, making the latter rather uncomfortable. There was practically an Augment for every two stations on the Bridge. The conn was being monitored by Seth Strudwick. Nahodha had commander Spock at gunpoint.

Michael noticed his father, not sitting in the Captain's chair, but he might as well have been. He and the Captain were standing, caught in a staring deadlock. The Chair stood between them.

There was a strange glint in his father's eyes- one that Michael had never before seen. It made him uncomfortable.

A dangerous glint... what shows in a man when there is untold darkness within. He had never seen that in his father before. It was reminiscent of the face of a man... Michael shuddered. A man whose soul was ravaged by war. It frightened him unreasonably.

Michael shook his head. That went against everything he had ever known. He had never been afraid of his father before. His father was a good man... was he not?

Michael's thoughts drifted to what he had been told not an hour after having woken up from cryosleep.

 _"Listen, Mikey, Khan... well, he's done some pretty bad things... he... uh... he hurt people. He hurt a lot of people. He did some bad things, and it made a lot of people unhappy. They were really mad, because he hurt their friends. So.. uh.. he got put back into the cryotube.. er... they made him go back to sleep.."_

It didn't... Michael was suddenly very conflicted. What Doctor McCoy had told him suddenly made sense, and yet... he knew that his father had a good reason for whatever he was doing. He always did. It wasn't as if he was likely to just... kill for no reason... Right?

Khan turned slightly to see his son and his lieutenant. Suddenly, the dangerous light left his countenance, and he was suddenly his normal, albeit slightly introverted and vaguely hostile, self.

"John. You found my son. Excellent." Khan walked over to them, and Michael transferred arms. "Make the preparations necessary, if you please." John was about to say something else, but Khan quickly walked back into the turbolift.

The Turbolift created a gentle whirr as they traveled back to their quarters. They sat in silence on the Turbolift. Thoughts ran through Michael's mind at about a rate of a thousand per second.

Was his father... a monster, as he had been told? A terrorist? Evil? Now that he had seen his father staring murderously at Kirk, he began to wonder. Maybe his father had wrongly killed people. He certainly had the ability to kill.

He had once overheard Miss Carol talking about Khan... how he had broke her leg clean in two... murdered her father in cold blood by smashing the man's head... but she wasn't frightful... more so ... resenting. When she had found out that he was listening, she apologized profusely.

He had come across that attitude a lot on the Enterprise. A false calm. People claiming terrible things about Khan... how he had nearly destroyed San Francisco... how he had killed their friends or family. And then a façade of an excuse to say that they hadn't meant it.

Michael shuddered slightly. Was what he had been told a lie? Was his father a liar and a killer? Beautiful to behold, but terrible in reality?

He shook his head. Impossible. His father was a good man, wasn't he?

They were quickly back in their quarters, and Khan gently set his son down on the bed.

"Father," Michael began. "What is going on?"

Khan smiled broadly, and walked to the replicator. "The great Renewal. I am reaffirming my vows to your mother. Defending my fidelity to her." A small glass of champagne synthehol appeared on the replicator pad. Khan smiled, and raised the glass in a toast.

Michael shook his head. "That's not what I meant." He rubbed his side, which was now only sore. "You've taken control of the Enterprise."

Khan paused, the glass halfway to his lips, suddenly remembering the incident occurring on the Vengeance. "Not the first time I've commandeered a starship."

For nearly the first time in his life, Michael didn't gain reassurance from that smile. "Daddy, there are people who said that you killed or hurt a lot of their friends, in trying to get what you wanted... I've seen the pictures... so... why?"

Khan's expression darkened as he set the champagne glass on a small table. He nearly said, _and_ I _remember being strapped to a table and tortured for the value of my blood by those same people_. He exercised restraint, however, and simply shook his head. "I can't give you explanations for all of my actions, Michael. Nor would I, even if I could, for some of them."

Michael's eyes narrowed.

Khan knelt down in front of the bed. "There are... certain things... that are best left unspoken of. For the benefit of others."

Michael bit his lip lightly. "Like San Francisco."

"Some memories from my life will not be shared with you until you are older, as it should be, to protect you. Just as when you are older, there are some stories that you will not tell your children. Michael... you can't expect me to always explain myself, nor am I likely to do so. As I said, there are some things better left alone."

Michael blinked. "But so many... so many dead." He looked up at his father. "Innocent people."

Khan slowly stood. "Not _all_ innocent... but yes. Enough of them... might not have gotten involved."

The boy shook his head. "Just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Khan helped his son stand. "By no fault of theirs... They merely were caught in the middle."

"But... to involve them, even if they had no part in it... There are people here on the Enterprise who want revenge, Father. They want the Augments... they think we should have died, as would have been."

Khan gave a slight smile. "Well, perhaps we can't argue them out of their opinion, but we can prove that it will never happen."

Michael nodded. "Perhaps... but all this. The Augments taking the Enterprise over. Why?"

Khan smiled. "Well... because we must return to the Station to see your mother, so that I may reaffirm my vows. She waits for us there. "

Suddenly, at the thought of seeing his mother again, what he had just discussed with his father was promptly forgotten, and replaced by the prospect of being a reunited family.

* * *

So. Yes, I know. This chapter was slow. But important, as it grants a more muddled picture of who Khan really is, which I feel is important for his character. I honestly don't think Khan is definitively a villain- at least not by choice- so he cannot be written as if he were. I feel like he is basically a grieving soul who gets carried away in his quest for justice. But that's just my opinion.

But nonetheless.

Please excuse errors.

Please review.

All rights to respective owners.


	20. Chapter 20

Hello. I have had a nasty case of writers block in this story. That's partially why the chapter has been excruciatingly slow in coming.

I have also been busy with school and stuff, so... yeah. this story is going to be closed out soon so that I can keep doing other things... like school. Anyways. I am debating halfway or not to add this story into the _Private Tragedy_ canon, but I'm not sure. I would like your feedback. :)

At any rate, my next project might be finish _Dawn_ , and maybe get back into _Down, Not Out_ , if requested by popular demand... If nothing is stated explicitly, assume that I am working on my sequel to _Private Tragedy_ , which I am thinking will be named _Enigma_.

Warnings apply this chapter.

* * *

 _Why?_ It was a question to ponder. So ponder it in between the screams. The wails. The tears. The snapping of bones.

 _Please!_ It was just a word. At that, a word one would speak with the intent to invoke pity. So speak it while you can, while you still have breath to do so, that perhaps they might have mercy and relent.

Except... they never relented. They never stopped. They enjoyed the screams. The pleading made no effect.

A tear slid down William's cheek. His best friend, John, had just been taken away, out of the cell. William knew exactly what would happen. John would come back, beaten and bloodied, and Jason would have to find a way to keep him from dying. It was the same every single week. One of the seven boys in the cell would be hauled away, they would... earn their stripes, as it was called, and then be thrown back in with the rest a few hours later. It was up to their comrades to keep them alive until the next time.

"Khan." A man stood in the doorway to the cell.

William stood. "Stop calling me that! I'm no... Khan," he spat.

"You are the leader of the Augments, because you are the son of their Khan. You will be the new Khan."

William snarled back, "Not by your declaration, I'm not. I don't care what you say, Aaron!"

"You will," the tall man said. "We are the ones who declared your ancestors to be royalty. Without us, you would have floundered in the darkness of your own stupidity."

Jason gave an enraged shout and ran towards the barrier, only to be thrown back by the electrical field.

Aaron LeClerk gave a half-crazed smile. "Careful, healer. We wouldn't want you to die prematurely, would we?"

William gave a low growl. There was no way Aaron was going to get away with taunting his friends, especially not with the way he treated them. "What do you want, LeClerk? I don't have time for you."

"Oh, you will." He motioned to someone else who was behind the doorway to the cell, presumably a guard. "You will definitely have time for me."

The electrical field fell for a moment, and William was only able to get one last glance at Jason's prone form before the guards hauled them both away in different directions. William went down the hallway towards the... the Death Zone.

William continued to growl at the guards who were holding him by the arms and dragging him down the hallway.

They suddenly turned to another door and entered another room... William was silent after that.

...

Everything hurt. It hurt still. His body had been ravaged by the Metamorphosis, and... well... that was honestly a good enough explanation anyways.

He felt so much different. Everything felt so much smaller.

The guards unstrapped him, and he groaned in pain, his voice hoarse from screaming. He promptly fell forward, shocked to find how little of his arms the guards actually could grip when they grabbed him. He glanced down at the floor of polished metal, using it as a mirror.

William blinked. He was... huge. He looked like a carbon-copy his father. Broad shoulders, powerfully built, but strangely thinner than the average human.

He roared at his reflection- he didn't want to be like that! He wanted... he wanted to just be a ten-year-old, like he was. He grabbed for the nearest implement he could find (it happened to be a scalpel), and scored rough marks in the floor with the stainless steel blade.

In response, strong hands grabbed him and forced him back onto the table.

An abundance of tears began to flow down William's face, and he wailed. It just... it hurt. Mentally and physically. He hated it.

How they could do such things... was unbelievable.

He was unable to think on that for too long, because the same strong hands hauled him off the table, and dragged him out of the doorway.

Something else occurred to him. He had lived. He had lived through the Death Zone. He was eager to see his friends again, and tell them that it was possible to survive.

Then the men carrying him took an unexpected route to a different cell. They stood in front of it for a moment, before they opened the door, and threw him in. William sprawled out on the metal floor just as they shut the door.

He just laid there for a moment- he tasted blood in his mouth, and he was almost tempted to think that there was internal bleeding. Well. Splayed out on the floor was no honorable position to die. He pulled himself up to rest on his hands and knees. He grit his teeth against the pain in his arms and torso, but couldn't seem to get any further.

A soft hand cupped his cheek, and lifted his head.

He blinked to let his eyes adjust to the bright lights above, and as soon as they did, he beheld an utterly angelic face. Benevolent emerald eyes stared back at him, and he could honestly say that he fell in love.

...

"Dad- are you alright?" Michael stared up at his father. "You didn't have a seizure, did you?"

Khan blinked. His gaze drifted back to his son. "Oh, no. I'm fine. Just a... a memory."

"Bad?"

Khan straightened his suit, as he had done several times already. It was in a retro style- a close tuxedo. "Argh... Bad enough. Do you think that this looks alright?"

Michael tipped his head. "You look as good as ever, Dad. The suit looks nice. Does mine?" The little boy made a slow circle. He had gotten better at walking with his new prosthetic leg, and was beginning to be able to run.

Khan grinned broadly and lifted his son up. "Of course it looks good." He placed a light kiss on his son's cheek. "You're growing up into such a handsome young man."

Michael grinned, and fought off the kiss, as all boys his age would.

Khan couldn't help the tears that began welling in his eyes. It had been such a long time since he had seen his family all together... And yet... somehow there was still the desperation of a fugitive in the back of his mind. Where could they go now, now that everyone was awake. Surely not back to earth, their home...

...

Kirk glanced around at the conference room. Yes, the Augments had commandeered the Enterprise, but the fact that they had done so just to throw a big party... It felt very, very off. Maybe it was just him. He liked parties, sure... But Augments? They'd commandeer a ship to have one (which just felt downright weird to say... But still.

His gaze slowly drifted to see Khan and Michael standing side by side, a figurative Me-and-MiniMe. He bit his lip. as much as he hated the idea of the ship being commandeered, and his crew being held captive, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was really important; that Khan and his family needed this. And then maybe it could simply result in an exile. A woken exile, perhaps, on some strange planet.

He slowly walked towards Khan, and the Augment turned to face him. "So... William... How does this... am I supposed to do anything... ceremonially, or anything?"

Khan shook his head. "No, no. You won't be required to do anything. It's just us. We renew vows. Our marriage stands the test of time."

Kirk's brow furrowed. "Literally, she saw you in person less than a month ago... in her time, at least."

"Shut up. I kept my fidelity during the year interim... She's here."

All in the conference room stood up when the door slid open. The inside of the room was lit less than the outside hall, so the woman was momentarily shrouded in a silhouette. She took two steps forward, and Kirk's jaw... suffice it to say, his jaw _gaped_. She was absolutely beautiful. Angelic, even. A light silvery blue gown... pooling out behind her like physical moonlight. Her face was covered by a thin netted veil, but Kirk could still see pale skin and near-glowing emerald eyes.

He felt a sharp jab in the ribs, and it was at that moment he remembered that he was staring at another man's wife. Not that something like that had ever stopped him before, but... ah... this wasn't exactly the kind of family that is good to mess with, apparently.

Khan stepped forward when his wife reached the threshold, and he took her arm in his.

"Greetings to all who are gathered here today; thank you for being willing to attend. I realize that the circumstances are quite strange, awkward, even... But trust me... it means more to all of us than you know..." He turned to his wife. "From this time forward, from now until death do we part, I solemnly swear to have you and hold you, in sickness and in health, triumph and defeat, joy and sorrow..."

Kirk almost had to look away when the man kissed his wife... it almost didn't even seem right, with the gravitas of the situation. But he saw Michael beaming... and no wonder. They were finally all a family again.

With a jolt, he reminded himself that Khan was guilty of murder, and there was no way in hell that Starfleet, or, for that matter, Starfleet at large, would take this kindly.

And so the question arose: Yes, they were all reunited, a man and his family, his crew... but now what to do with them?


End file.
